Inheritance: Return
by No1OfConsequence
Summary: It has been nearly ten years since the fall of King Galbatorix, and peace has reigned. The Urgals have been peaceable, there hasn't been a rebellion in nearly a decade, and the Dragon Riders have returned. Nearly thirty new Riders have emerged, and several have been Urgals or Dwarves. Nasuada's reign has been a peaceful one, until now; until my adventure began.
1. Prologue: Shadow of a Chance

Never had Raud seen an Elven ship with his new eyes. The graceful construction could only be from the Elves' odd habit of singing their boats from trees. The moonlight was the only source of light that night, and it was more than enough to see the white ship. As it sailed up the river, Raud drew his sword.

The ship was carrying something he needed to get—a Dragon egg from the realm beyond Alagaësia. While one of Eragon's Riders was present on deck, his Dragon was nowhere to be seen. While no doubt the Dragon was nearby, he could recognize the Rider from his hiding place on the shore. It was Kurga, a Knurlan Rider, and more recent addition to the Riders, which meant his Dragon wasn't very strong. This couldn't be any easier.

As soon as the boat passed near his hiding place in the brush next to the river, he ran out and jumped over to the boat, sword in hand. The gap was at least twenty feet—child's play for him. As soon as he landed on deck, the crew's faces showed a shock that he found amusing.

"Shade!" a crewman shouted. He grinned as he heard the name of his kind.

He charged the first Elf, and as he raised his sword, Raud stabbed him in the chest. As another Elf charged him, he turned and parried the Elf's lunge. Keeping the Elf's blade low, he punched him across the face, and while he was disoriented, slashed him in the neck. As the Elf fell to the ground, another took his place.

This new one tried stabbing him in the chest, but Raud sidestepped and grabbed the Elf's wrist. As he brought his own blade to bear, the Elf caught it in his hand. His sword soon was drenched with blood from the Elf's hand, and pain flickered across his face. Raud then kicked him in the gut, and while he was reeling, stabbed him. That one had been a little tougher than the rest.

Another two Elves charged him, and he decided he was done fooling around. He took a pair of large stones out of his coat pocket, and spoke a spell of teleportation. The stones went straight into the Elves' chests, around their wards, and their torsos exploded. If any way was more terrible a way to die, he couldn't think of it.

Then again, few thought to make wards to protect against teleportation. To his knowledge, he was the only one who used it in combat.

Then came the Rider. Kurga seemed inexperienced in battle, as he just stood there, horrified with the carnage. He grinned. _This is the kind of Rider Eragon's been training lately?_

Raud charged, and a loud roar came from the night sky. He glanced up and saw a Dragon with orange-ish scales, and was the size of a small house flying at him. He took another stone out of his coat pocket, but then the Knurlan attacked, distracting him a little. Kurga swung his sword at him, which he blocked.

After a series of attacks, it was soon evident that while Kurga wasn't as strong or fast as an Elf, he defended himself better than they did. It was going to be more difficult to kill him, but only just.

Then the big Dragon came down and grabbed him by the shoulders with its front claws. Its—he wasn't sure if it was male or female—claws dug into his new flesh, and picked him up off the boat. The ground began to leave him, but he knew that it would return soon enough.

He stabbed the Dragon, and while an older one's scales might have been thick enough to take the hit, his blade went straight into the Dragon's chest. It made a roar of pain, and dropped him. He was unafraid as the ground rushed towards him. He cast a spell to slow his descent, and made it back down to the boat effortlessly.

He was running out of strength. His spells from earlier had sapped almost all of his considerable strength from him. He would have to finish off Kurga without the aid of Gramarye.

Behind him, the Dragon crashed into the woods nearby. Kurga sneered at him. He said in an angry voice, "You'll pay for that, you…"

"Shade," Raud said slyly. "And remember, my name is Raud for when you tell your gods who sent you."

Kurga growled, and charged him. In his rage, Kurga was easy to sidestep, and so he did. As he ran by him, Raud slashed him in the back. He fell to the ground in pain.

He then walked up to Kurga, and whispered into his ear, "Don't worry, you pathetic Knurlan; your death will not be without purpose. In fact, I am going to finish your quest for you. I fully intend for the egg to find its destined Rider, so really I will be saving you and your fellow Riders a lot of trouble."

Pained as he was, Kurga managed to say one thing, "You love the sound of your own voice, don't you?"

Raud grinned. "How did you know?" he replied. He then stabbed Kurga right through his torso.

Somewhere, a Dragon roared. So it's still alive. He took a stone out of his pocket. Though not for long. He then thought better of doing it, and instead would use his energy for something else.

He went down to the hold, fighting through the few Elves onboard. As he killed them he stole the energy from their body to restore his own strength. He'd need it later.

There he found a small chest with wards strewn about it to keep anyone from taking the contents without the proper key and spell to unlock it. He had no idea who had the key, or who knew what the word was, so he would have to find a way around that.

As he climbed back on deck with the chest under his arm, the orange Dragon swooped down, and breathed fire at him. He ducked back under the deck as the orange fire flowed from the Dragon's mouth. As the wooden deck burned, he went down into the hold and got a bow and arrow. He got back up on deck, and, setting the chest down, he readied to fire an arrow.

As the dragon came for another pass over the boat, he aimed for its head. Only a shot to inside its mouth would kill it—probably. If it had any wards still up, this would be a waste of effort. As it was about to exhale, he fired. The arrow hit the roof of the Dragon's mouth, into its brain. It then fell down into the river, causing the boat to rock violently.

As it died, Raud stole its energy away, replenishing his own reserves. He did not want to let so much energy go to waste.

He grabbed the chest and prepared to jump back to shore. As he was about to, another Elf charged at him. As much as he wanted to slaughter him, he knew there had to be at least one survivor. So he jumped, and landed with a thump on the shore.

The Elf didn't follow him, to Raud's dismay. Any excuse to kill anything was fine with him.

He went deep into the forest. It was only until he was safely away that he began his task.

He set the chest down, and went about opening it. He would first have to remove the wards around it, which was daunting. He'd need a lot of energy to open it. Fortunately, in a forest, there was a huge amount of energy all around him.

" _Ládrin_ ," he said. Open. While a simple spell, it was enough. As the spell took effect, he channeled energy from the plants and animals around him into the spell. As everything died around him, he smiled. Finally, the wards around the chest collapsed.

The gears inside it turned and its lid popped open. Inside was a sight he had not expected. While he had expected to see a Dragon egg, this was different. In his long lifespans, he had seen Dragons of almost every color, and heard of all the rest. But in all his existence, he had never seen a Dragon of this color. Inside was a silver Dragon egg.

He moved on from the strange sight, and set about casting a spell. This spell was to teleport the egg to whomsoever it was destined for. It had taken many spellcasters many years to perfect the spell, and he was absolutely sure it would work—it wasn't as if he could kill the ones that developed it if it failed. As it took effect, the egg disappeared.

He stood back up confidently. It didn't matter who it went to, or how far they would have to go to get it. They would find whoever received the egg, no matter what.


	2. Cathalorn

Arlen opened his eyes. Light crept into the room from the one window to his right. It was time to get up, regrettably.

He sat up and rubbed his eyes. A chill went through his body. It was cool in his bedroom, but he knew that it was freezing outside. No matter how tired he was, going back to sleep was not an option.

He had heard of places of luxury, of warm places where the days were long and the sun was hot. Where one did not have to where heavy furs just to stop from freezing to death. Places in which the grass was long, and one could hide in it just by crouching. But Cathalorn was cold, wet, and a village where dreaming was for nights, not days.

He dashed out from under his covers and got his boots, coat, belt, and cap on quickly. Continuing his routine, he turned to the corner. In the corner was his sword in its scabbard. He grabbed the scabbard, and attached it to his belt.

He walked out of his room to get breakfast. In the kitchen was his mother—Emera—standing over a pot of portage. He looked around and didn't see his father anywhere. "Where's Dad?" he asked.

"Good morning to you too," his mother replied. He frowned. Upon seeing this, she said, "He's in the training field, as usual."

He considered something. "What about Ehren?"

She sighed, and stirred the pot. "Your brother hasn't gotten up yet. Your father just wanted to get some things done before dawn."

"Alright." His mother handed him a bowl of portage with a spoon, and he took a seat at the table.

As he was eating, Ehren walked out of his room. He was still groggy, and he didn't have his sword with him. "Good morning, everyone," Ehren said tiredly.

"Good morning," his mom said.

"Good morning," Arlen said. He looked again at Ehren's belt. "I see you don't have your sword with you."

Ehren sneered at him. "It's inconvenient."

"It's a good idea. If the village is attacked, you'll have to run into your room, grab your sword, and by then half the village could be dead or captured."

"Attacked by whom?" Ehren might have a point. Besides, he was just repeating what their father had told him. Maybe their father was a bit paranoid.

"Attacked by Urgals, or Elves," their mother said. "Ceunon is just across the lake, and you know what the Elves did to them? They took over the whole city without effort."

"Ten years ago!" Ehren replied. "And they turned the city back over to the Empire anyway."

"But if they wanted to, they could attack us with ease. One Elf would be enough if we're unprepared, son, and if we…"

"Oh, look," Embry—Arlen's older sister—said, stepping out of her room, "it's not even midday, and you two are arguing." So she was up. "Good morning."

"Good morning, Embry," Arlen said. While Ehren could be frustrating, Emrby tried not to make too much trouble. He liked her a bit more, but they were both his siblings nonetheless.

Without so much as a "good morning", Ehren and his mother continued their argument. Arlen had gotten tired of listening to them argue about this almost every day. He regretted ever bringing up that Ehren wasn't wearing his sword.

After he was done eating, he left.

Stepping outside, he had to squint for a moment. It was not so much the sun, but the bright autumn snow on the ground that hurt his eyes. After his eyes adjusted, he could see the houses of Cathalorn clearly.

He walked outside, and down to the training grounds. While it was Ehren's duty as eldest to help train new recruits, he was indisposed, so Arlen had to do it instead until Ehren showed up. Then again, Ehren also tended to neglect all his duties, so the chances of him showing up were slim, unfortunately.

As soon as he got to the training grounds, he could tell his father was in a bad mood. He was using Boulder Breaker. The heavy oak staff scared the living daylights out of anyone he sparred with. Every time he hit a trainee's staff, it looked like it was going to break. As he swiped the legs out from under a trainee, he turned to Arlen. "Where's Ehren?" he asked.

"Arguing with mom," Arlen replied. "So I'm here instead."

His father growled. "That boy needs to learn respect."

"Maybe he just wants to spread his wings a little," he said cautiously. He didn't want to upset his father further, but he felt a duty to his brother to defend him. "He's nineteen; he should be given a bit more freedom."

"He's a man and wants to be treated like a man," his father said. His gaze drifted away. He mumbled something that sounded like, "Hopefully he won't do what I did." He wondered if he meant when he was a soldier in King Galbatorix's army. But then he spoke again in a clearer voice. "Well if he won't come, you'd better get started. Lynde's back."

Lynde. Almost every month—except in winter—they trained new novices in the combat arts, and until a few months ago, Lynde was there among them. She nearly always failed, and it was just sad to watch her spar. But she was determined to be trained.

As the new recruits came onto the clear field of dirt where he would instruct them, he saw their faces. There were many young ones who wanted to spend their life in the village guard, and several older men who needed something to do now that their sons had taken over their farms. It was an average group, alright, and he expected very few of them to pass.

He also picked out Lynde from the small crowd. It may have been his imagination, but her face looked different from the last time he saw her. She didn't look any older; if anything she looked slightly younger, which puzzled him a bit. Her brown hair was a bit lighter than when he last saw her, which suggested that she had spent the last few months outside most of the time. It was no matter; he'd train her like the rest, and if she passed then his father would train her further, and if she failed then she failed.

The recruits lined up, and Arlen began to instruct them in the general use of a staff. Eventually, Lynde interrupted. "When do we learn to fight with a sword?" she said.

He sighed. Almost every time she had a question that derailed his entire class. But he had to answer her. "Swords can be the most deadly weapon, or a complete waste of metal. Spears are easier to use, and more effective in some cases than a sword. But swords are more reliable, more personal, and more deadly in the hands of a skilled warrior than a spear.

"But to answer your question, my father—Dryden—will teach you about swords if you impress him. But first you have to impress me and pass the class."

"Alright." Lynde went over to the rack where the staffs were stored. She picked up a staff and assumed a fighting stance with it. "Shall we begin?"

He sighed and shook his head. Every time she tried to do this, and every time she failed. But if she wouldn't relent, then he would just have to deal with her himself.

He picked up a staff and said, "Alright. Impress me."

She started by swinging it at his head. But his reflexes were fast, and he blocked it. Oddly enough, he felt a bit more force behind the attack than he remembered there was. Perhaps it was only his imagination though, or he was getting soft. In any case, it may not be as easy previous fights had been. She attacked again, at his legs, which he again blocked.

He attacked her left leg, where she was always vulnerable because of her preferred stance. But then she surprised him by blocking. She grinned—a mistake when in combat with a superior fighter. He then swung at her side, which she again blocked.

The fight went on with both of them being equally matched. So far she had surprised him with her improvement, but not impressed him enough.

Suddenly, she jabbed him in the stomach with the end of her staff. While he had tried to block, his arms, for some reason, weren't fast enough. Then she spun around, and slammed her staff into his side. If he wasn't already in pain from his stomach, his side hurt even more now. Why couldn't he block in time?

In his pain, he stumbled to the ground, grasping his side and stomach, and dropping his staff. Above him, Lynde grinned. "I beat you," she said proudly.

He thought to kick her legs out from under her. But he rejected the idea, as spite wasn't something he wanted to motivate his actions. Then again, it would teach her a valuable lesson—sometimes, a dead man isn't so dead—or at least, that's what he would say. And so he did.

As he swung his leg, she jumped over it, and stepped back. He stared at her in shock. Who had that kind of reflexes?

"I'm surprised, Lynde," he said, getting up. "You've improved greatly without any training, and even beat me." He eyed her suspiciously. Was this even the same person? He had heard that magic could change one's appearance, and no one could tell the difference. But he abandoned the idea of an imposter, as there was no evident reason to replace her. "You can move on to my father's training, I suppose."

She made a triumphant sound, and went over to the field where his father was teaching.

He would have to watch her. There was a reason for her recent improvement, and he would have to find it out.


	3. Visitors Both Welcome and Unwelcome

The house was like many in Cathalorn. It was made out of logs, had a chimney on the shingled roof, and there was the head of a Dragon carven out of wood above the doorway. There were no tools for farming or anything outside, and little sound came from inside. It was unremarkable, except for who lived there.

This was the house of Gelsey, a sewer. Her husband had died in the war, in the battle of Ceunon, so she had to find a way to sustain herself and her family. She would sew things for those who didn't have the time to. She was also the mother of Edana and—more importantly—Lynde.

Though Lynde wasn't her actual daughter. Sometime after the war, one of the Queen's Magicians came to the village, and took her mother—the town healer, Fayre—away. They said that her mother was a magician, that she had to be either a member of their order or be observed, and that she said that she would rather be jailed than watched every second of her life. Lynde's father disappeared—some said on a quest of vengeance—soon after his wife was taken. So, with no parents, Gelsey took her in and raised her like her own.

He knocked on the door, and a woman's voice said from inside, "Come in."

He opened the door, and walked in. Inside was an older woman in a chair with a blanket around her. She was repairing a cap when he walked in. "Welcome, Arlen. How are you?" she said.

"I'm fine, but I came to talk about Lynde," Arlen said.

"Well that's a welcome change of pace," she replied. "I don't have to fix anything or make anything. This is purely social." She put the cape down. "Now, did she try out again?"

"Yes." Gelsey sighed. "And she succeeded." Her eyes grew large. "Dryden's giving her lessons now."

"Well isn't that unexpected."

"Can I ask you something?" She nodded. "Do you know what Lynde's being doing these past few months? Has she been training with anyone?"

"I honestly don't know," she replied. "She's been gone most days, and she never takes off her mittens, even indoors. I don't know what's been going on. Maybe she fancies someone."

"Maybe." She wouldn't be trying to join the village guard if she was after a man. It didn't make sense to him.

"I asked about it one day," Gelsey said, "and she said that I wasn't her mother, and that I should leave her alone." It was obviously a touchy subject. "She said it with such hostility that I couldn't believe that it was the same girl I've raised for nine years."

"Well," Arlen said, "I think I'd better be going now."

"Can't you stay and talk some more? Sit down. I don't like ending a talk on a bad note."

"Well, I'm sorry, but I need to do some things. I need to get back to the training field."

"Go ahead. Just remember to come back some time and talk."

Without answering, he left. He didn't want to give his word and not keep it, nor did he want to say no and want to talk later. While it may not have been the most polite thing to do, he decided that he was going to go anyway.

Outside there was a sight he wasn't prepared for. His heart dropped, and he reached for his sword. Three horned creatures—one a giant taller than any man he'd ever seen—walked through the village, escorted by ten village guards with spears, including Arlen's father.

They were nightmarish. They had gray skin, curly horns like a ram's, and muscles that made them look like they could crush a boulder with their bare hands. They wore animal skins and loincloths. One look at them, and he knew that they were Urgals.

He had only heard of Urgals, and what he'd heard usually wasn't good. Many people called them monsters, and others, heroes. They had fought alongside the Varden in the war, and killed thousands more soldiers than Dwarves or Humans combined.

Though if anyone asked him what the real monsters were, he would have to say Elves. Elves had captured Ceunon without effort, as well as Gil'ead, and probably other cities he hadn't heard of. They killed so many. His father had told him stories… But Elves weren't walking through the village—Urgals were.

They bore clubs that were massive like young oaks, which worried Arlen. If they were here to fight, he wouldn't be able to defend himself against a club that big. But they didn't seem to want trouble, so for now he wouldn't have to try.

Ehren ran up to him with panic on his face. He noticed his sword was at his belt, which was good. "Arlen," he said.

"Ehren," Arlen replied. "Do you know what this is about?"

"Not a clue. They just said they wanted to talk with the leaders of the village."

"Well that's ominous."

The Urgals went to the hall in the center of the village, and there they met with the leaders. There was Brynner, the oldest man in the village, and the wisest. Arne, the representative from the Empire, and the only person Arlen really despised—as did the whole village. And Arlen's father, Dryden, the captain of the village guard, took his place among them.

The Urgals and the leaders exchanged words with them. After the initial exchange, they went into the hall, and were there for a while.

As it became midday, he decided he would have to have lunch. He went home, and grabbed some bread and cheese. He went back to outside the hall, and ate.

Ehren and Embry joined him in waiting.

Arlen finished off his lunch, and asked his siblings, "What do you think they want?" They knew he was talking about the Urgals.

Embry took a bite of bread as Ehren said, "I don't know. But I heard a trader say that a Dragon egg was stolen."

Embry coughed as she swallowed. "A Dragon egg?!" she said, surprised. Arlen was also shocked. A Dragon egg was stolen? How does that happen? "Who told you?"

"Duer; the man who bought those all those furs. He told me it was stolen this summer, and that it hasn't been seen since."

"Duer would say anything to distract you from how much you're getting robbed," Arlen said.

"I don't know. He seemed pretty sure." Ehren had a contemplative look on his face for a while after that.

"I think the Urgals are here to extort us," Embry suggested. "They might want wheat or something from our village for some reason, and they're threatening dad and the others for it." It sounded right, but the Urgals would be in for a surprise if they tried attacking this village. They had guards for a reason other than being overly cautious.

As the great doors to the hall opened, the Urgals came out, and walked out of the village. Soon following them out were the village leaders. Now they could ask them what the Urgals wanted.

As their father started walking to the training field, Arlen and his siblings went over to him. He looked tired from the meeting, and seemed not to notice them at first. Embry was the first to speak. "Dad, what did the Urgals want?"

Their dad almost jumped when Embry asked that. He really hadn't noticed them. Calming down, he said, "Nothing you need to concern yourselves about. They've just been searching for something for a while, and we explained to them that we didn't have it. Nothing to worry about."

While Ehren and Embry seemed somewhat satisfied with the answer, Arlen wasn't. He hoped that his father wasn't lying to them. But if was lying, they would eventually find out.


	4. Rudely Awoken

Arlen woke up with a start. Whatever dreams he had been in were shattered like the silence of the night as a man smashed into his window. He was bloody, and if he was anyone Arlen knew, he wouldn't be able to tell because his face had been smashed in. He looked through what remained of his window, and saw members of the village guard fighting Urgals.

Urgals were attacking the village!

He had to get out there. He quickly got his coat and boots on—he didn't even stop for his cap—and grabbed his sword. He rushed outside and joined the fray.

As an Urgal smashed the ribs of a villager with his club, Arlen stabbed the monster in the neck. The Urgal died soon after. Not every fight would be that easy, he knew this.

He looked around. There were dozens of Urgals, some as tall as a large man and others giants. The guardsmen fought valiantly, but the Urgals were stronger and faster. One thing they had in their favor was that there seemed to be fewer Urgals than guardsmen, though it might not be so soon enough. Buildings burned, and men died. It was horrible.

He searched for his father, and he found him fighting alongside Ehren against an Urgal. As the Urgal swung his club and missed, Dryden—Arlen's father—took the opportunity to stab him in the ribs. The Urgal howled, and Dryden chopped his head off.

As Arlen ran over to Dryden and Ehren, his brother said, "Ah, you're awake. I thought you were dead."

"Ehren, the dead don't snore," Dryden said.

"And he wasn't either. Besides, I was busy."

"Too busy to wake me up?" Arlen said.

"Well, yes." He couldn't believe Ehren could be this… "By the way, in the morning, we need to fix my wall." Well that cast a new light on the matter.

Ehren lunged past Arlen, stabbing an Urgal. "Watch your back, brother," Ehren said.

The battle raged on, and several guardsmen died, but so did many Urgals. But the giants—the Kull he had heard one of them yell—refused to die. Even as their smaller fellows died around them, the Kull kept living—and killing.

As one of the Kull charged at Arlen, horns pointed at him, Dryden intercepted it, slashing its calf. The Kull made no indication of pain other than stopping. The Kull turned to Dryden and growled. He then swung his club at Dryden, which he narrowly dodged.

Just as Arlen and Ehren charged at the Kull, he picked up Dryden, and threw him into a building. The wall held, but it was obvious that Dryden's bones didn't. With anger and sadness welling up in him, Arlen stopped and yelled, "Father! NO!"

Ehren seemed equally angry as he charged the Kull. Only with the motion of turning around, the giant Urgal knocked Ehren to the ground seemingly by accident. When he didn't get back up again, Arlen stepped back in shock. His father was dead, and it seemed all too likely that Ehren was as well.

As the Kull stomped towards Arlen, he said in a voice that sounded like he was chewing a piece of raw beef, "Where is the Dragon?" Arlen couldn't answer. His mouth had stopped working, and he could only shake his head, trying to communicate that he didn't know where… Wait, a Dragon?

When Arlen didn't answer, the Kull raised his club over his head, and was about to bring it down on him when he howled in pain. The Kull turned around and he heard wood snap as he did. A spearhead was lodged in his back. He made his way around the Kull and saw Lynde standing on the other side of him, holding a broken spear.

Before the Kull could move against her though, she said something. While the word itself he didn't catch, it sounded powerful and terrible. He felt afraid of the word, even though he didn't remotely know what it was. Upon speaking this terrible word, the Kull stopped, and fell to the ground. Arlen had to run out of the way to avoid the Kull's corpse crushing him. It fell to the snow covered ground with a thud, and Arlen looked at Lynde in shock.

Was she a magician? As he heard several more thuds in the snow, he looked around and saw that all the Urgals—the short ones and Kull alike—were collapsing. She had to be a magician!

He went over to her, and she looked like she was about to run when she stumbled to the ground. When he got over to her, around the Kull corpse, he asked, "Are you okay?"

She nodded slowly and said, "Just tired." He offered to help her up, but she was content to sit in the snow. Was this a side effect of magic?

Eventually, after the fires were put out, several other villagers came out to inspect the damage. Almost everyone was walking in the snow, including Brynner and Arne. While Brynner was occupied with the damage, Arne had more trivial concerns. "Where is the magician who did this?" Arne said loudly, so that anyone who did know might hear it.

Arlen didn't want to expose Lynde. She saved the village, and if Arne knew she had done it, he would probably have her taken away. He felt like he was indebted to Lynde, not only for saving his life, but for most likely saving the village.

When no one answered Arne's demand, he stomped off through the snow, furious. It almost made Arlen want to laugh, but that was impossible now.

The Urgals had attacked, and while they may not have succeeded in whatever they were going to do, they had killed so many. The white snow was stained with blood, bodies lay everywhere, and many houses had been damaged by fire. If anyone had asked him what he thought would happen that night, he would never have said this.

Arlen collapsed on his bed. It had taken them hours just to get all the bodies of the dead in places where they would be safe from animals. That combined with his short plight with his broken window had tired him quite completely. Now he just wanted to sleep.

But his mind kept him up, thinking about the events of the night.

Lynde was a magician. He didn't know why or how, but she was a magician. While it explained where she had been for so long, it did not explain to him how she had bested him in sparring. Perhaps she had used some spell to slow him, or something like that. But in any case, it was shocking to know that the girl that he had grown up around was now a magician.

Perhaps she had gotten it from her mother? Her mother was a magician, and it certainly made sense if the talent was passed on from mother to daughter. But how did she get the knowledge required to do it? Surely she hadn't been taught before her mother was taken, as she was only about six when it happened. So how did she know the right word to use when she had killed the Urgals?

It had to be that she was training with someone else. Someone outside the village perhaps? It would explain a few things, such as where she had been spending her time these last few months.

And what about what the Kull said? He had asked for the location of a Dragon. He didn't know of any Dragons except those that everyone knew about—Eragon's Dragon Saphira, Magnora whose Rider Arlen couldn't remember, Elf Queen Arya's Fírnen, and the rogue Rider Murtagh's Thorn. He had even seen what he thought to be Thorn when he was little, flying in the sky like a great red flag. Maybe the Dragon they were searching for was Thorn?

Then he thought of what Ehren had said about the Dragon egg going missing. Maybe the Urgals thought that the Dragon had hatched and that it was somewhere around Cathalorn. But he thought not; he would probably have heard if there was a great search for the missing Dragon egg.

What the Kull said was probably nothing of worth.

But just remembering the Kull reminded him of who he had killed—his father, Dryden. While Ehren had been injured, his father was dead! The man who had raised him, who had trained him, who had always been there for him was now gone. While he had slightly feared him, he had also loved his father deeply, and that was cause for tears.

He knew that he wasn't taking this as hard as others. He could faintly hear his mother sobbing from the kitchen. She had always been strong through the years; good times or bad. The only thing that had gotten her even more upset was when they had lost his younger brother—Gratian—to sickness.

Emrby was also grieving, though not as loudly.

Ehren was currently unconscious. The healer that had taken over for Fayre—Lynde's mother—was inexperience with wounds from battles, so he didn't know if his brother was going to survive. Death hung over him like it was deciding whether or not to take him. He had taken his parents—now his mother's—room, since his own room had damage to it. He could only hope that his brother would live through the night.

With that in mind, he could only cry himself to sleep.


	5. Aftermath

The next few days were tough for everyone, including Arlen.

The day after the attack was when they buried the dead. The Urgals—who were left out during the night—were buried without ceremony in a patch of earth far away from the village. But the villagers who the Urgals had killed were put to rest with great respect.

Arlen's father was buried in a place of honor. While his mother had tried to keep her emotions in check, she ended up crying in front of her husband's grave. It had been hours before they got her away from it.

Arlen monitored Lynde's condition closely. She had been exhausted by her spell with the Urgals, and was resting most of the day. She said that she was simply tired from the battle, and though that was a questionable answer, no one bothered her. If she went anywhere, he would follow her.

The repairs to the village were tough. It required taking wood from the nearby forest, and they were always cautious about doing that. Elves were supposed to live in forests, though probably not that one. They had also heard of a ranger living out there wearing the colors of Galbatorix. While they were only rumors, and descriptions varied from a slender man to a tall woman, it still made the men cautious when going out there. But regardless of the difficulty, the repairs were done by sunset.

The matter of the villagers that were only wounded was much more difficult though. While Chelsa—the healer—did her best, she was very inexperienced, and most of the wounds were beyond her meager skill to heal. Fortunately, as soon as their neighbors heard of their plight, they sent people to help. Healers of every kind came from Ceunon, with their experience gained in the elf attack, and even a healer from Carvahall who had been with the Varden during the war. Fortunately, many of the villagers pulled through.

If only the Empire hadn't such a hold on magicians. If they had a healer like Fayre, who could cast spells to heal people, a few more people could get better. But no, High Queen Nasuada had to have all the magicians for herself and no one else. She was easy to despise because of it.

Ehren was holding on. While he was very weak, and slept most of the time, he was doing better, if only slightly. He hadn't talked in that time—whether he could or not was unknown, just that he hadn't spoken. Arlen didn't know how well Ehren was taking their father's death, but he was pretty sure he felt something. He so very much wanted to have his brother back.

Arlen visited Ehren regularly, just to see if he was doing any better. Embry rarely left his side, but Arlen had things to do. It was during a visit that Ehren first spoke.

It had been three days since the attack, and Arlen had just finished seeing to the return of a stolen tool when he decided to visit. Embry was there, half asleep in a chair next to Ehren's bed. They hadn't moved him for days, so actually it was their mother's. Arlen was just telling Ehren about his day, seeing if any of it got a response from him, when Ehren said, "A wall."

Embry snapped fully awake at the sound of her older brother's voice, and Arlen also took a greater interest in him. What Ehren had said confused him. "A wall?" Arlen repeated.

"I figure a wall would be good to stop any more attacks like this," Ehren explained, his voice strained and rough from disuse. He cleared his throat and spit something onto the floor before continuing. His voice was much clearer then. "A wooden wall wouldn't be too good, but at least it can't be taken down quietly. And we certainly can't build a stone wall."

"Welcome back, Ehren," Embry said, hugging her brother.

"I never left."

While it was great to see his brother back and talking, Arlen was interested in this wall idea.

Lynde eventually got up and around again. While her family didn't let her out of their sight, she was able to help in minor ways. Arlen kept a close watch on her for when they finally let her out of the house.

After a while, Ehren was back on his feet too. While he didn't do much, he did help organize what little of the recovery effort that needed to be organized at that point. He would have to get used to his role as a leader because he would probably become captain of the guard soon enough. But for now he wasn't ready for anything too big.

As the rest of the wounded villagers got better, the healers started to leave. While most were only too eager to return to their homes, one of them did want to stay in Cathalorn for a while. Really almost everyone had recovered—everyone who would recover anyway.

Arne wouldn't stop talking about the magician that was supposed to be around. He constantly wanted to hunt down whoever it was, and that was something Arlen couldn't allow. He used what sway he had with the guardsmen to stop any searches, and even tried to reason with Arne to stop his search, but that failed—he didn't even want to speak to Arne after that conversation. Arne was also bringing in one of Nasuada's magicians to search for them, much to Arlen's dismay.

He couldn't keep Lynde's secret forever. Eventually Arne would find out, and then there would be nothing Arlen could do to stop him. They owed their lives to Lynde and he didn't want her to be punished for it.

Eventually, Lynde's family let her walk about the village without them following her. Chelsa said it was alright, and that a walk should be good for her. Arlen followed her, suspecting she could lead him to whomever it was who trained her.

It was mostly for curiosity's sake he was doing this. He wanted to know who it was, and maybe do something to show his gratitude towards them—depending on their identity. He certainly wasn't going to turn them over to Arne.

Lynde walked through the village, talking to her friends who she hadn't seen for a while. He knew that they weren't the magician types. He tried to stay out of sight, or at least made sure they didn't notice him.

When she left them, she went through the village, saying hello to people. He followed, and oddly enough, no one she met seemed like the type that could keep a secret like that. He wondered if she had even learned from a teacher.

But then she did something unexpected: she left the village. He followed her as she left the village, heading for the surrounding woods. It was tough not being noticed; if she had turned around, then it would be over. As she entered the woods, he was sure he hadn't been spotted.

He walked over there quickly. It was easy to lose sight of someone in the woods, or so everyone said, and he would have to follow her more closely.

As he entered the forest, he felt like he was being watched by some unseen presence. He shrugged off the feeling, and went in.

Arlen continued to follow Lynde through the woods. While he lost sight of her multiple times, he always managed to find her again. But when he came into a clearing, he lost her for good.

He nearly cursed himself. How could he lose her in a clearing? He was about to give up when he heard a rustling in the bushes.

Suddenly, a creature leapt out of the bushes and into the clearing. It landed on all fours, with its angular head low to the ground, ready to pounce, and growled menacingly at him. It was the size of a horse, and had silvery scales covering its entire body except for its large wings and red eyes that stared at him. Spikes lined its spine from its head plate, all the way down its tail. It had long claws on its paw-like appendages, and long fangs that stuck out of its mouth. It was a Dragon!


	6. Artsanna

Arlen froze at the sight of a Dragon. If anything—anything—had made him more afraid for his life, he couldn't think of it. He didn't make a sound. While it didn't pounce, it was ready to. Similarly, Arlen was ready to draw his sword, but he didn't as he believed that if he did make a motion to it, the Dragon would jump. So they just stood there, staring it each other.

Its red eyes were unnerving. He'd never seen anything so red before—not even blood was so red—except for Thorn's scales, and even then those eyes were far brighter than any scale could be. They stared at him, and it almost felt like they could see through him. He wished that the Dragon would look away if only for a second.

"Well, who are you?" For a moment he thought the Dragon was talking, but he looked up and found the source of the stern voice. It was a woman standing at the edge of the clearing with a red cloak that was unnaturally clean, and a longbow pointed towards him with deadly intent. The voice itself was flat and only colored by mild curiosity. He was almost glad to see her, but since she was pointing that bow at him, he wasn't too happy.

"Arlen son of Dryden," he answered carefully.

"I've heard of you, Drydenson," she replied, lowering her bow. "Can't say I'm impressed though."

He looked at the silver Dragon again. "Is it yours?"

"No. That honor belongs to…"

"Rose!" Lynde came into the clearing, addressing the woman with the bow. "I've been looking for you and…" She looked at the Dragon. "Artsanna!" she said disapprovingly. "He's not for eating, Artsanna."

 _Why would I kill him if I were not to eat him?_ The words came from inside his mind. No, outside his mind, as if someone was speaking to him in his mind. Was the Dragon saying this?

"We're not going to kill him," Lynde scolded casually like the Dragon was a child that had been acting poorly, and had come to expect it from her. Yes, it was a female Dragon—the voice that had to have come from the Dragon was almost that of a young woman's. "Now come away from him."

 _Alright, but if he runs, I will chase after him._ The Dragon straightened out and sauntered over to Lynde's side.

"Seems fine with me," Lynde said.

"Don't worry; I won't run," Arlen said.

Both Lynde and the woman looked at him curiously. Even the Dragon cocked her head. "How can you hear us?" Lynde asked.

"I'm not supposed to hear you?" Arlen asked.

"Artsanna?" Lynde turned to the Dragon.

The Dragon looked squeamish somehow. _Perhaps I'm not very good at shielding my thoughts?_

"No," the tall woman said. "In order to pierce the shield around someone's mind, one must first be adept at reading them. I don't think he's the type to read minds though."

"Hey, what does that mean?" Arlen said.

The tall woman turned to him. Her green eyes narrowed in on him. "It means that you focus all on physical combat, and never even thought if you could be a Spellcaster."

"I'm not anything like that!"

"Really?" She put her longbow and her quiver against a tree, and hung her cloak up on a branch. "Prove to me that you are more than just a man with a sword. Impress me."

While Lynde objected, she was also ignored.

He drew his sword, and the woman said, "No weapons." When he hesitated, she added, "What's wrong—worried that you can't beat someone unarmed?"

He put the sword against a tree. She was aggravating him intentionally. She wanted him angry, and she was going to get it. "Alright."

"Now, try." She put up her fists.

As he put up his fists he realized that he didn't know her name. "What's your name?"

"Call me Rose," she said.

Well that sounded fake. "Afraid to use your real name?"

Before he knew what was going on, she was punching him in the gut. The air left his lungs and he staggered back. He was really angry now, and in a blind rage, he threw a punch at her. She caught the punch, and then let it go. "You're going to have to better than that."

He knew how this worked. He'd been on the other side of this multiple times. They would fight, Rose would win, and he was supposed to believe he had a chance. While he had no idea why she was so strong, it hardly mattered now. He knew what to do now.

He stepped back with his hands to his sides. "Why would I?" he said. "You're obviously faster than I am, and at least as strong, so what's the point?"

Rose laughed. "Aren't you a smart one?" she said. She turned to Lynde. "It didn't occur to you that it was pointless, now did it?" She collected her equipment and said, "Now, was there a reason you came out here or do you just follow Lynde around now?"

Then he remembered. "I wanted to thank you both for what you've done," he said. "Without you, Cathalorn would have been destroyed." He turned to Rose. "I assume you're Lynde's teacher."

"Yes," Rose said.

He looked at the Dragon—he believed her name was Artsanna—again. "Who's the Rider?"

"I am," Lynde said hesitantly.

He stared at her. "You?"

"Yes, me." She removed her right mitten and showed him her palm. On her palm was a silvery mark that was said to be the mark of a Rider.

Lynde was a Dragon Rider! She was one of the few people who was bonded to a Dragon, and entrusted with the safety of the whole of Alagaësia. The girl who had over and over again tried to become a guardsman was now a guardian of land? This was… surprising, to say the least.

His lack of outward reaction must have concerned Lynde, because she said, "Arlen, are you…?"

"I'm alright," he said. "I just never thought you'd be a Dragon Rider."

"Well, I'm not exactly a Rider," she said nervously.

"What do you mean?"

Since Lynde didn't answer for a while, Rose spoke up. "She's not with Eragon's Riders."

He frowned. He didn't like it when someone talked in riddles when they could just say it straight. "Why and how?"

Rose was about to answer when Lynde did. It obviously upset Rose, but she kept her mouth shut. "I was out for a walk in the woods, clearing my head from when I tried to get into the guardsmen. That's when Artsanna's egg just appeared in a sort of explosion right in front of me. I was a safe distance from it of course, but it looked like it would hurt if I was much closer."

"If you're going to take this long to tell him how Artsanna hatched for you, let me explain it," Rose said impatiently.

Offended, Lynde replied, "No!" Rose scowled but stayed silent. Lynde turned back to Arlen, and continued. "While I was examining the egg, Rose came up behind me and only Artsanna hatching for me saved me from Rose's arrows. After that, she started teaching me everything I needed to know to become a Rider—the secrets of Dragons, combat and diplomacy skills, even magic."

"Why didn't you go to Eragon's Riders?" Arlen asked.

"Because this very same egg was stolen on the other side of Alagaësia, and there's no doubt they'd be searching for the thief," Rose explained. He found it unlikely that she would know things that happened across the continent. "I'm better connected vagabond than most would think, really." That… didn't explain it. "I didn't want to risk Lynde being accused of being in league with the thief, so I trained her myself. Besides, with all the apathy of the established order, I think a compassionate someone outside the system would be the best thing for the Empire."

Her reasons certainly made sense. High Queen Nasuada's monopoly on magicians had brought them more harm than good, and Dragon Riders hadn't done much that he'd heard of in the past ten years. Perhaps Lynde being away from the constraints of Queen Nasuada or Eragon would bring about more good than harm, and events like the Urgal's attack wouldn't happen as easily.

Despite any claims she made, Queen Nasuada's magicians were not omnipotent or omniscient, and couldn't be relied on way out in the far reaches of the Empire. Cathalorn needed protecting from Urgals, Elves, and the like. He could think of no better guardsman than Lynde to protect them in this regard.

"I understand," Arlen said. "But I do one question: why doesn't she know how to use a sword?" He remembered that she had wanted training with swords. "Surely a warrior of your skill knows how to use a sword, Rose?"

"You're attempt at flattery has been noted and rejected," Rose said flatly. "Roran Stronghammer never used a sword." He couldn't argue with that. "But I do know how to use one, and I've also sworn an oath in the Ancient Language never to wield a sword again, and an oath in the Ancient Language is not easily broken. I've also sworn to never go to Teirm again, but that's beside that point.

"The point is that I can't teach Lynde in the arts of a sword."

Arlen grinned. "Then I'll have to teach her."

"Good. Every Dragon Rider of old used a sword, and it might as well be a letter opener if you don't know how to use it. I assume you'll being training her in the village, and not here, because honestly she's spent enough time out here as it is. Any more and people will get suspicious."

Lynde agreed to be trained, and after a few more exchanges, she and Arlen left the forest.

As they walked back to Cathalorn, they noticed a man riding into the village on a horse. He wore a tabard with the symbol of the Queen's Magicians on it. So Arne wasn't making idle threats; a Magician had come to Cathalorn to search for Lynde.


	7. The Hunt Begins

Lynde panicked. The sight of one of the Queen's Magicians made her fearful. They could find a spellcaster anywhere using spells they had developed just for this. She wanted to run back into the forest and hide there. The only thing stopping her from bolting was the fact that he could probably already see her and Arlen, and if she ran then he would know that she was the spellcaster.

He rode into Cathalorn without a second glanced at them, and she and Arlen went in as well. She would keep an eye on this Magician, if only for the reason that she wanted to know what he was up to.

The Magician went into the village square, and so Lynde and Arlen went as well. It was in front of the great hall where he dismounted and met with Arne, Brynner, and Ehren—who had recently been named captain of the guard.

As they got closer, they could faintly hear what he, Arne, and Brynner were saying. "The magician cannot escape my spells," the Magician said. "You have nothing to worry about."

"I know I can count on you, Breyson," Arne said.

"I don't know about this spell," Brynner said, stroking his long grey beard. "This won't affect anyone who isn't a magician, will it?"

"If they have the power within them, I will sense it," the Magician—evidentially named Breyson—explained. "Anyone who has no ability to do magic, I will not pick up."

"I hope so."

Breyson stepped away from the village leaders, and began chanting with words in the Ancient Language. Many words she didn't recognize. While he did this, Lynde prepared a spell that she would use if he sensed her.

She knew it was futile. He was no doubt a more powerful magician, had a well-rounded understanding of the Ancient Language, and would not hesitate to kill or incapacitate her. The way he talked about the spell, it didn't seem like she had much of a chance of eluding it. But maybe the spell searched for something that she didn't have, or maybe she would get lucky or something.

When Breyson finished the spell, he said, "There are three people in this village with the potential for magic, and one in the woods. Out of all of them, the one in the woods seems the most powerful. Ehren, I would trouble you to hold the ones I sensed in the village. While they may not be magicians, they have the potential to, and I don't want to take chances."

"Alright," Ehren said.

Breyson pointed to where Lynde and Arlen were standing, and she wanted to run, forgetting her spell. But running would do her no good, and perhaps she could go through this without revealing herself. She let the guardsmen surround her and Arlen. They seemed unsure of who Breyson meant for them to detain, so they guarded both of them.

 _Are you alright, Lynde?_ Artsanna's voice in her head was jarring. She had to get used to that.

 _I'm fine_ , she replied. _Why?_

 _Rose just left the forest. I thought that the two-leg ridding the large four-leg may have done something that I couldn't see from here._ It took her a second to realize what she was talking about, but she quickly figured it out.

Then she realized it. _Rose just left?_

Suddenly, Lynde saw Rose walking into the square. The villagers gave her a wide berth, in fear of the outsider. She also made no attempt to conceal herself.

Breyson stepped towards her. "So, you are the magician who killed all those Urgals," he said. "I do admire your secrecy, but you have nothing and nowhere to hide now. I can see your entire life story behind you—trained by your magician parent, and when they were taken by the Empire, you became a wanderer searching for meaning." He cast a spell at Rose.

Rose shouted the spell as well, but with a slight variation—a counter spell. "You know nothing of me," Rose said with a hostility Lynde hadn't seen in her before.

"Well, if our contest will not be determined by our list of spells." He paused. "Let it be done with our minds."

Rose looked at him expectantly. Then a flash of realization crossed her face and she said, "Oh, you started?" After a moment, Breyson fell to his knees, his arms outstretched in an unnatural position. Rose walked over to him as casually as an afternoon stroll.

"I am sorry, great…" Breyson tried saying, but he couldn't seem to say the next word. At the realization that Rose was stopping him from saying it, he seemed to choose a different word. "…one. I would not want to clash against you. I see now it would be foolish."

"Such is the nature of things," Rose said. "You make a mistake," she drew a knife, "you pay for it." She stabbed him in the throat.

Most of the villagers were alarmed at this display. She then walked out of the village with no opposition.

Lynde was shocked that she had killed him. While Rose was not average in the slightest, the thought of her killing someone who was at her mercy like that turned her stomach. She couldn't believe what she had done!

 _Lynde!_ It was Rose's voice now in her mind. _We need to leave now! Pack what you need, and meet me at dark in the clearing where you found Artsanna's egg._

She replied, Rose, _what was that?_

 _I may explain myself later or perhaps not. For now, prepare to leave. Tell no one._

 _What about Arlen? Will he come with us?_

Rose paused for a moment. _That's up to you two. I couldn't care less if he came with us. Just make sure he doesn't try to stop us._

After the guards left, Arlen went to Ehren to discuss things, while Lynde went home. She walked past Gelsey and Edana sewing in the main room, and went to her bedroom. When she was alone in her room she took off her mittens and began to pack.

It was then that it really settled in for her what she was about to do. She was going to leave Cathalorn, the only world she had ever known, to go on the road. She had no idea where she would go, what she would eat, where she would sleep. She also didn't know if she would ever see her home again.

Doubts plagued her mind, and it was only Artsanna that saved her from this. Lynde, what is going on? Lynde showed Artsanna her memories of what had just transpired, and Artsanna said _, So we must leave. The Empire will not allow this to go unpunished, and will send more Magicians to arrest Rose. Eventually they will find me, and then the Riders will become involved. A battle with another Dragon could cause damage to the village. We must leave now to spare the village the horror of what our battle will become._

 _But why do you and I have to leave?_

Rose had evidentially had noticed their conversation, and joined them. She hadn't noticed before, but Rose's mind felt different than Artsanna's mind in a myriad of ways, not all of which she could account to their personalities. She assumed then that a Human's mind and a Dragon's felt naturally different, or perhaps the bond between her and Artsanna simply made her fell different. _Lynde, you and Artsanna are inexperienced, and need a teacher. You also need a protector. You see, I didn't want to tell you this before, but Artsanna's egg was stolen by a Shade._

Instantly, Rose sent all the information she knew about a Shade. It frightened her to her core. Rose continued. _And that Shade will most likely be looking for you, so we must leave now before he comes into the mix as well._

 _How can you protect Artsanna and me from a Shade?_

The impression she got from Rose turned sly _. I have a few tricks that I don't think a Shade will see coming. In any case, put your mind to packing, and I will be out here waiting for you with Artsanna._

 _Alright. See you tonight._

Artsanna and Rose bid their farewells as a knock came at her door. Lynde asked as she grabbed her mittens, "Who is it?"

"It's Edana," said the familiar voice of her adoptive sister. "Arlen's here to see you." She had to talk with Arlen, so it was all the better that he came to her. She put her mittens on and opened the door to see Edana behind it. "He's in the kitchen."

She went to the kitchen where Arlen was sitting at the table. Gelsey was talking his ear off when Lynde came in. Gelsey paused. "Could you give us some privacy, Gelsey?" Lynde asked. Gelsey, obviously unhappy that she no longer called her mother, frowned and left the kitchen.

Even though Gelsey and Edana weren't there, the two of them spoke in hushed tones all the same. If there was a spell to prevent people from eavesdropping on her, Rose hadn't taught it to her yet. "I'm leaving tonight," Lynde explained, "and I want you to come with me."

Arlen's eyes grew wide. "You're leaving?"

"I need to. Everyone is in danger with me here." Arlen looked at her questioningly. "I don't want to leave any more than you do, but I need your help. You know how to use a sword, and you also know about," she paused to consider what to call Artsanna, "my new friend. I need what you can teach me. After that, we can part ways."

Arlen considered for a time. He obviously didn't want to make this decision hastily. After a good long time, he said, "I said that if you impressed me, you would learn how to use a sword. Well, Lynde Fayresdaughter, you have impressed me more than anyone else has in all my life. It would be my honor to teach you in use of the sword, and I would gladly go wherever you go."

"Thank you, Arlen," Lynde said, smiling. "You should get packing."

"Right." Arlen stood up. "See you tonight." He said goodbye to Gelsey, and walked out.

Then Lynde went back to her room and resumed packing. She would be leaving soon, and there were some things she couldn't leave behind.


	8. Flight From Cathalorn

It was a cloudy night. Lynde and Arlen met up before going out to the woods. They hadn't arranged anything, so Lynde had started going to Arlen's house when she discovered that he had decided to go to her house. They met in between, and left Cathalorn.

She felt hesitant leaving the village. It was the same hesitation she felt before she left her house. She didn't want to leave everything she had known behind just for an uncertain future. She would probably never see Cathalorn, Gelsey, Edana, or her friends ever again. But it was necessary.

When they got to the clearing, Artsanna and Rose were waiting for them. The sense she got off of Artsanna was one of joyous anticipation. Other than that, she didn't put her thoughts into words, which meant that she was very excited. Artsanna was wearing something on her back that confused Lynde a bit.

Rose seemed impatient to her. "Ah, you're here," Rose said. "I was wondering when you'd get here. Hello, Arlen."

"Hello, Rose," Arlen replied.

"What's Artsanna wearing?" Lynde asked.

"A saddle," Rose said. A saddle for Artsanna? "It took me longer than I thought it would to make a Dragon saddle. It's been years since I had to tan anything, and that's not even leather—it's bear hide. But it will keep Artsanna's scales from scraping your legs, and make her easier to ride." Riding her? "While you will have to get a replacement eventually, you should be able to adjust it according to her growth for… a couple weeks? Months? I don't know."

"Thank you, Rose," Lynde said. She looked again at Artsanna. "So you think she's big enough to ride now?"

"Why else would I give her a saddle?"

She grinned. Now she knew what Artsanna was so excited about. _You want to go?_

Artsanna made her best attempt at a grin. _I have wanted to fly with you for my whole life, Lynde. Do you even need to ask?_

Lynde gave her pack to Arlen, and climbed onto the saddle. Rose instructed her on how to strap herself to it while Artsanna waited impatiently. It wasn't long before everything was ready, and she took off.

She began by leaping into the air and flapped her wings strongly. While against the night sky, Artsanna would be incredibly visible, she doubted anyone would be looking in her direction. Her stomach she left on the ground and it was a struggle to keep her head up. But then, when the wind blew in her long hair and in her face, and she saw the trees with their frost covered tops and the white snow blanket over the grass, she realized how amazing it was to fly.

Artsanna flapped her wings harder to gain height, and when she had gotten high enough, she stopped. Lynde thought they were going to fall for a moment, but Artsanna assured her that they would do no such thing while she was in command of herself. Then, as Artsanna put it, they began to glide.

As they flew over the forest, she could see everything. To her left was the lake, and eventually, Ceunon. To her right and behind her was the mountain range known as the Spine—which she had wondered ever since she had heard that Dragons could grow to infinite sizes, if it was the spine of a Dragon itself. But right in front of her was a mountain range, and beyond that, the unknown.

She wondered what was out there. She knew that the Empire was to the south, but she knew little of it, especially what it was like. Artsanna knew just as much as she did, so they both wondered about it. They would have to go there to find out.

Then the thought occurred to her when she would land. She contacted Rose with her mind _. Rose, when should we land?_

 _For now we can travel separately if you like, so you can get well acquainted with flying. But stop when you get to Palancar Valley, as we should enter it together._

Rose's answer puzzled Lynde _. I thought the reason we brought Arlen was so that I could train with him. I can't train with him when I'm flying with Artsanna._

 _You need experience in the air if you are going to be a Dragon Rider. Besides, I think I should learn what sort of a man Arlen truly is._

Once again, she was puzzled _. I thought I told you what kind of man he is._

 _Descriptions and actually knowing something or someone are two very different things. I will make my own judgements of Arlen to see if we should have left him in Cathalorn._

 _Alright._ And the contact was ended.

She was worried about this. She'd never been on her own before. While yes, she was not truly alone with Artsanna by her side, it was still more alone than she was used to. She hoped that the two of them would be able to survive on their own until they met up with Arlen and Rose again.

* * *

When they stopped for camp, Arlen was exhausted. It wasn't too far from where they started, and it would be another two days to Carvahall, but it was also night. From the events of the day, he just needed to rest.

He wasn't hungry—he had eaten dinner with his family back in Cathalorn—but apparently Rose was famished. She hunted and killed a couple rabbits, and made a quick stew over a fire she had made him start. "One thing I'll say about being around all this snow, it's easy to get water for stew," Rose said.

"Not exactly what we thought of when my forefather founded Cathalorn, but it's an advantage," Arlen replied.

Rose had a curious expression on her face. "Why did your people settle here? Of all the secrets I know from all my years, I have never figured out why you'd want to live in that place." She didn't look old enough to use the phrase "all my years" to Arlen—about thirty something—but maybe she just felt old.

But he felt like he had to explain this. "I don't really know. But after so many years, it's become my family's home, as well as many other families'. I live here because my family lived here, and that's really all I can say about that."

"Huh," Rose said. "Isn't that the worst reason for being here?"

"Well, why were you here?" Arlen asked, offended by her disrespect for his ancestors.

"I am a servant of nature and magic," Rose explained as she put her knife in a piece of rabbit meat.

"Um, explain."

Rose sighed as she was about to bite into the meat. She then explained, "Magic can often reveal certain mysteries to the users. Sometimes they can be incredible things, and other times things that are obvious to other people. I learned that everything is connected, and by our actions, even the tiniest ant can be affected.

"I have been inside the mind of an ant, a deer," she gestured to her meal, "a rabbit. I have also looked through the eyes of a wolf. Do you know what I found?" He shrugged. "Nature, life, and everything, is unfair. While many times it may seem things are fair, nothing is.

"Elves do not eat meat because they too have been inside the minds of animals. They think they would harm nature by hunting animals and raising livestock. But one thing they have not learned is this: we are part of nature. It is only when we take more than our share that we can remotely damage it.

"And so, despite what Elves think they know, they do not know the absolute most important lesson they could learn. And that is why they will die." It may have been his imagination, but it looked like a teardrop was rolling down her cheek. "It's not like we're Shades."

Arlen was confused. "What's a Shade?"

Rose growled. "A Shade is the most evil thing in world. They are a possessed Human, Elf, or other creature, who want to kill everything in sight. They don't even kill for food; they kill because they are evil."

"What possess them?"

"A Spirit. And let that be the end of this discussion so that I can have my dinner."

While he had many more questions, they could wait for another time. For now, he wanted sleep.


	9. Traveling With a Mystery

Arlen was woken up by snow getting thrown in his face. He sat up quickly, wiped the snow off his face, and looked around to see who had thrown it at him. Rose was standing expectantly nearby. "Thought that'd get you up," she said flatly.

He grunted and went for his bag. He took out a piece of bread and took a bite. He offered Rose a piece, but she refused. "I had breakfast waiting for you to wake up."

"Why didn't you wake me up before?" Arlen asked. He wasn't angry but curious.

"Eh," she said. "Figured you didn't want to wake up while it was still dark. I honestly have trouble thinking that anyone can sleep as long as you did."

He cocked his head. "How long have you been away from Humans?"

"Longer than you'd believe." Her cryptic reply made him wonder how long it really was. But if she didn't want to give an exact time, he wouldn't press for one. Instead he finished his breakfast, at which point, Rose said, "Alright, let's go."

Arlen quickly got his pack and sword on, and followed her as she marched into the forest. She was a bit difficult for him to keep up with at times. He had to run to catch up to her when he could. She didn't slow down to take into consideration the underbrush, and she didn't trip over anything. Rose simply pressed on, not caring about how badly he was falling behind at times.

Finally, they got to the edge of the forest, and they saw the snowy plains outside of it. Running through the snow was a beaten dirt path where no one was currently walking along. It wasn't really the time for tradesmen or the like to be going to Cathalorn, so it was understandably empty. Rose took one look at the rode and said, "If you think we're going along it, we're not. I simply wanted to check if anyone was going to Cathalorn."

"Alright."

Rose looked at him suspiciously. "What lie did you tell your family?"

He was surprised. "What?"

"What did you tell your family that you were doing? You can't just leave without a word."

Arlen then realized something. He hadn't told them anything. "Well, I did," he admitted. "They probably are just now finding out I'm not in Cathalorn."

Rose scowled at him with a moment, and then her face changed into a smile. She laughed like a dog barked and said, "That might actually help." He cocked his head. Where was she going with this? "If they see that you and Lynde had gone off at the same time without a word, they might…" She began to hiss a laugh now. "They might think that you and Lynde ran off to get married."

His eyes grew wide. "You think…?" Actually, Ehren and Embry might think of that eventually, if Gelsey didn't think of it first. "Well, isn't that interesting?"

"Aye. The best part is that you let her into the guard, so…" She lost the ability to speak amidst her laughter.

"I almost hope so." He grinned. "Of course, if I had told them the truth, they'd probably think that anyway." And they both laughed a little while both continuing on their journey.

* * *

It was difficult to watch Rose hunt. She seemed to blend into the forest more effectively than any hunter he'd seen. Arlen was discovering this, as he couldn't even see her!

They had traveled for most of the day, and had made good progress. He figured that they were half a day's journey to Palancar Valley now. But now they needed to rest for the night, and before they could sleep, they had to have dinner, and right now, they were getting some.

Arlen was spying a deer with long horns wandering in a small clearing. It had small scars on it, which he assumed were from hunters grazing its hide with arrows. Then its face turned to Arlen. It saw him! It began to run when an arrow flew out of the brush, and the deer fell onto the snow with an arrow in its head.

Rose stepped into the clearing, out of the brush. He didn't know how he hadn't seen her before. Her red cloak should have been easy to see, no matter what had been in the way. He wondered if it was some magic spell.

"Good work, Arlen," Rose said as she pulled the arrow out of the deer's head. "I couldn't get a clear shot before."

She picked the dear up and carried it over her shoulder with ease. He wondered about her strength, and where she got it. He also wondered if she used magic to influence her accuracy with a bow, or if she just had that many skills.

They made it back to their camp, where they left their bags. Arlen began to build a fire while Rose skinned the deer. When the fire was made, they roasted cooked the meet with a bit of salt, and then they ate.

It was pretty good, all things considered.

"So," Arlen said between bites, "do you use a magic spell or something to hide yourself from your prey?"

Rose nodded with her mouth full. After she swallowed she said, "If I didn't, I wouldn't be half as effective at hunting. Well, maybe I would. Yeah, I would." She took another bite and said, "That spell has saved my life more times than you would believe."

He sighed, frustrated. "I wish you wouldn't be so vague about stuff."

She swallowed what was in her mouth and said, "I wish you didn't complain about it."

"I wouldn't complain if you weren't so vague."

"A point only overshadowed by the fact that you'd probably find something else to complain about if I stopped."

He frowned. This conversation wasn't going anywhere, so he might as well stop. He went back to his dinner, and they ate without talking.

After dinner, they sat in silence for a bit. "Why did you decide to go with Lynde anyway?" Rose asked.

He was a little surprised at the question. But then he explained. "I promised her that she'd learn how to use a sword, and I'm a man of my word." Rose's glare made it clear that she didn't entirely believe him. He gave in, and told her. "Alright, it's just that, while I haven't known her for long, I feel like I want to help her with whatever she needs. It may be because she's a Rider, but I don't know."

Rose looked down and sighed. "I understand." After a moment's pause, she looked back up. "Do you have anyone back home? Someone you fancy?"

"No not really," Arlen said. "It's just my mother and my siblings now that my dad's dead. I never did try to court anyone."

"Well, that's good to know," Rose said.

While they were on the subject, Arlen asked, "Do you have anyone you care about?"

"My parents are dead, I think," Rose explained. "Well, maybe they're still alive; I lost track of them a long time ago. Other than that, I have no one—no husband anyway."

"Do you have any siblings?"

Rose hesitated. "Aye. A sister. She's dead now."

Arlen had to ask "How?"

"Died in the war, fighting an enemy no one could defeat."

He cocked his head. "Why did they take her?"

"They would have been fools not to!" Rose replied hostilely. "She was good with a sword. But that didn't save her." She gestured to her cloak. "I cut off a piece of my cloak even, sort of as knight's colors. I was… different then. But it is no matter."

While he could tell this was a touchy subject, he had one more question to ask. "Which side was she on?"

"It doesn't really matter. Both sides lost the war. Galbaortix was killed and Nasuada became the very thing she fought to overthrow, minus the advantage of being immortal. The Empire goes on and almost nothing has changed." She stood up, and climbed into a tree. "Good night."

"Good night."

He found it very odd that she would sleep in a tree. It was probably so that predators—both animal and human—wouldn't find and kill her while she slept. It was a good idea, but he didn't think he'd be doing that tonight.

He took a blanket out of his pack and settled down next to a log. Last night he hadn't gone to sleep very easily. He hoped he'd sleep better tonight.


	10. Arrival at Palancar

Lynde wondered where they were. She was at the entrance to Palancar Valley, and Rose and Arlen were nowhere to be found. She hoped they were alright.

 _I have no doubt that they are safe,_ Artsanna said, not getting up from where they laid. _Rose is more than strong enough to defeat any animal or Human they came across, and she would no doubt protect Arlen if it came to it._

"Arlen's a good fighter too!" Lynde said. She had no idea why she was saying it out loud other than that she had better control of her speech then her thoughts. She hoped that there was no one around to overhear them.

Artsanna raised her head and looked at Lynde _. Rose is the better warrior among them though, and I thought that, if it came down to it, Rose would protect Arlen. Besides, I do not think Arlen could fight half the things in this world._

"Neither could you a few months ago." She could sense that Artsanna was a little angry now. Her attempted sneer attested to this. Artsanna swatted at Lynde with her tail, and Lynde had to duck to keep from getting a bruise like the last time she did that. "Don't do that!"

Artsanna made a giggling sound and said, _I wouldn't have swung unless I knew you would be fine. Her giggling stopped, and her long neck straightened up as she looked away from the valley. They're coming._

Soon enough, Arlen and Rose came out of the forest, Arlen trailing behind Rose. Lynde went to greet them, but Rose grabbed her arm and almost dragged her off. "We need to talk," Rose said and looked back to Arlen. "Alone."

She didn't struggle, and soon enough, Rose let go. Once they were away from the other two, Rose spoke a spell to keep from anyone from eavesdropping. Rose didn't tell Lynde to shut out Artsanna from listening to her thoughts, so she didn't. "What did you want to talk about?" Lynde asked.

"Arlen is far more curious than you said he was," Rose said. "He digs deep, and searches for secrets he shouldn't know. He is cautious, though will answer what questions that I ask him. He may also have some feelings for you. All in all, while he is nosey, I'd say we can trust him to train you."

"Alright," Lynde said. She didn't know about his nosiness, but it may have been justified when he was with Rose, an absolute mystery to both him and her.

Rose's spell was released and she began to lead Lynde over to Arlen. A rustling came from the forest, and Rose stopped. She drew her bow with an arrow and aimed it for the brush. Lynde wondered why, when it was probably just a rabbit or something. But Rose probably wasn't concerned about nothing, so Lynde reached out with her mind to see what was there. She found a hard mind; sealed away from the world with one word as a defense—kill. Then, a massive Kull jumped out of the brush, swinging a club over his head.

Artsanna jumped at him, trying to claw his guts out. But he hit her with his club, sending her into some trees. Artsanna was hurt, but most of the damage was to her pride rather than her bones, though her bones hurt too. "Hah, no hatchling can defeat me, Vorashz the Stong!" the Kull shouted proudly.

Lynde cast a spell to kill him, but it didn't even affect him. He evidentially had wards to protect him from such spells. Rose fired one arrow after another, but his wards stopped them in midair. These wards would make the fight far more difficult.

"You thieves are pathetic!" Vorashz said. "Even with your stolen Dragon, you are no match for me!"

Arlen seemed to have the best idea for dealing with Vorashz. "Run!" No one argued; they just ran in the direction of Carvahall.

Behind them, Artsanna tried to slow Vorashz, attacking him and flying away over and over again. It was the only thing stopping him from catching up to them. But Artsanna couldn't keep it up forever, so Lynde and the others ran as fast as they could.

Rose was ahead of them, though. She seemed to be pacing herself, trying to make sure that Lynde and Arlen could keep up. She couldn't wonder why in this situation.

A fiery pain went through her chest, and she fell onto the snow. Behind her, a hit from Vorashz's club cracked Artsanna's ribs. Artsanna seemed to share her pain with Lynde. Their bond definitely had some disadvantages. She had to overcome the pain, somehow, before Vorashz got to her.

Then Vorashz spoke in the Ancient Language, and Artsanna was immobilized. "Oh no," Lynde said accidentally as dread crept up her spine. Vorashz was a magician!

A hand grabbed her arm and pulled her up. She caught sight of some red cloth as she was hoisted onto someone's—probably Rose's—shoulder. It was uncomfortable with a shoulder in her gut, but she wasn't going to start complaining now. Her eyes watched the ground as Rose carried her away.

Occasionally she was able to move her head in an angle that allowed her to see Vorashz or Artsanna. Artsanna was struggling as she was being dragged by Vorashz using magic. There was nothing any of them could do to help her against a Kull.

As Artsanna was being dragged away, she said one thing to Lynde with her mind: _Help._

Lynde could no longer hear Artsanna in her mind now. While they found safe lodging with one of the villagers—Brigit, a woman of similar demeanor as Rose—Lynde couldn't help but think about how Artsanna was in the hands of a Kull. It was torture.

As she lay in her bed, she could almost feel Artsanna's fear, though perhaps it was her own. She couldn't eat, she couldn't sleep, and she could barely think while Artsanna was in captivity. She had to do something, but she couldn't.

Then she decided to do something.

She'd make a spear. She grabbed some money from her bag and left the house. She went down to the village carpenter, and bought a long wooden staff—the kind that travelers would buy on their trips. Then she went and found a stone, then went back to Brigit's house.

Out of courtesy, she went behind the house to make the spear. She sat down on a pile of snow and got ready to work on it. Then she realized she had no idea how to do this.

Rose found Lynde and walked over to her. "Are you alright?" Rose asked.

"Yeah I guess," Lynde said.

"Good, Arlen was worried," Rose replied. She found it odd that Arlen would say such a thing. "He didn't, say anything; I've just been listening to his thoughts off and on. You'd be surprised what I know about him now." She looked at her questioningly. "Don't worry; I don't do it often. I'll probably stop now." Well that was at least good.

She turned back to her stone and staff. "I'm trying to make a spear, but I have no idea how to do that. Do you think Arlen knows how to make one?"

"Yes, and so do I," Rose explained. "And I think that you need a lot more than that to make it the normal way, but I know a better way." Rose took the stone and spear. "You can use magic to fuse the two together, and to sharpen the stone."

"Really?" She then told Lynde the words for "bond" and "sharpen", and before long, she had a spear. Stone shavings came of the rock to make it sharp enough to use. When she bonded the stone and staff together, the sight of the two objects merging was… weird. Now she had a weapon. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," Rose replied. "I've been waiting so long to teach someone that. I'm glad I finally could."

Rose started to work her way back inside. Then some shouting came from around the front of the house, and there was the snapping of wood. Lynde ran behind Rose as they went to see what was going on. Arlen was standing in the doorway fighting four men with spears.

Behind the men with spears was a man in a fur coat. He looked like an official, but he looked stronger, not fat like Arne was. He had a full beard and mustache, but they were also well trimmed. Then Lynde saw the weapon at his belt, and dread seeped into her.

"Arlen, stop fighting!" Lynde told him.

For a moment he stopped, but he kept his sword ready to fight. Then he was knocked out of the doorway from behind. Behind him was Brigit hold a spear and shield. So she was giving them up. "No murderers are going to find my home safe as long as I'm in it," Brigit said with disdain in her voice.

Rose stepped back drew her bow, but Lynde stopped her. "We can't fight them!"

Then Rose saw what she meant, and lowered her bow. As the spearmen moved in to arrest them, Rose said, "Alright, Roran Stronghammer, now what?"

"Now," Stronghammer said with his hand resting on the hammer on his belt, "you're going to pay for what you've done."


	11. Captured

Lynde, Arlen, and Rose had been brought to the castle keep of Roran Stronghammer, shackles around their wrists. His hall reminded her of the hall in Cathalorn, only this one wasn't as old, and its ceilings were higher and its doors larger. There were tables there for feasts, though there was no food on them currently, and benches for guests to sit at. There were no tapestries lining the stone walls, though why was unknown to Lynde. As Roran sat at the head of his table, in a chair with a velvet seat next to two others, he stared at the trio. "What am I going to do with you?" he said.

The question didn't seem to be directed at any of them but to himself. Rose didn't seem to realize this, or she didn't care. "You can free us." Roran frowned. "I will not escape, out of respect for you and your deeds during the war. I would ask, though, that you let us go. One of our companions was captured coming here, and we would like to rescue them."

Roran sighed. "I don't know about that. But you did kill one of the Queen's Magicians, and you must pay for that."

"He tried to kill me!" Rose countered. "I was only defending myself!" Then she mumbled. "No matter how one-sided it was."

Roran was about to say something when the doors burst open. Lynde turned around and saw a nasty Urgal walking into the hall, club in hand. Her heart pounded as the Urgal lumbered forwards. The guards next to her and the others didn't let them run. Roran stood up and pulled out his hammer, ready to fight, when the Urgal said in the mangled speech that seemed common among Urgals, "I am Dulvoc the Unyielding, and I don't want to fight you, Stronghammer. I only want your prisoners."

Roran did not relax. "Why?" he demanded.

"They slaughtered my clan-brothers, and we demand justice." He didn't even mention Artsanna, if he knew about her, which Lynde counted as somewhat lucky. If Roran knew, then he would probably tell Queen Nasuada, and who knew what horrible punishments they would receive.

Roran sat back down, considering it. Lynde didn't know which would be worse—the Empire or the Urgals. She didn't try to think how it would be worse for either, and waited for Roran to choose. "No," Roran said. "What they did to your people can be understood—you attacked, they defended themselves, you lost. But I heard how this one," he pointed at Rose, "killed the Queen's Magician, and she must answer for that. Though I have no idea why her companions are with her."

"Too bad," Dulvoc said. He swung his club and smashed the table. "We will just have to take them."

Roran stood back up, and the guards pointed their spears at Dulvoc. Dulvoc was about to attack when Rose stood up and said, "Wait!" All eyes went to her, and Dulvoc stopped his club. "I will fight him, one on one, to the death. If he wins, my companions go with him. If I win, then Roran gets us."

Lynde's eyes widened. "Rose, no," she said, trying to stop her from throwing her life away.

"No," Rose said, iron and fire in her voice. "I'm done running and hiding. I'm going to stand and fight."

Roran was fine with this, and Dulvoc accepted the challenge. While Lynde urged Rose not to do it, her pleas were ignored. They were going to fight, and Rose was going to die.

They stepped out of the hall into the courtyard. It was very open, and didn't have much in it. She wondered if it would have any effect on the fight.

Dulvoc took his place on one side of the courtyard, while Rose took her place on the other. One of the guards walked over to Rose to unlock her shackles when she pulled on them and snapped the chain between her cuffs. Lynde assumed she had used some spell she hadn't heard, because there was no way she was strong enough to break them. Dulvoc put the animal skin he was wearing and his club to the side, and looked at Rose expectantly. Rose frowned. "If you're waiting for me to take off my clothes, then you might as well be waiting for the sun to fall out of the sky," Rose said defiantly.

"Very well," Dulvoc said neutrally. Lynde wondered if Rose's effectiveness would at all be improved if she wasn't constricted by her ranger's garb. Maybe, but with how cold it was, probably not. "No magic and no invading each other's minds," Dulvoc said. "This is a battle of strength, not mind."

"Awfully eloquent for an Urgal," Rose replied. Dulvoc growled angrily. "But I agree; this is a test of our bodies' might, not our minds'."

After Roran said "Fight!" the two charged each other. Dulvoc was running with his head down, and his horns pointed at Rose. She didn't waver, despite the obvious danger. As they were about to collide—and Rose was about to be impaled on Dulvoc's horns—Rose jumped several feet into the air, and landed on Dulvoc's back. She jumped off the Urgal's back, and landed with a roll on the ground. Dulvoc stumbled forward, and skidded to a halt in the snow.

Dulvoc then charged Rose again, not as fast this time, and not with his horns pointed at her. He swiped at her with his fist, but Rose crouched faster than Lynde could see, narrowly dodging the punch. She then kicked him in the shin with both feet, and something snapped. Dulvoc fell to the ground, clutching his leg.

Rose then punched him in the gut, and Dulvoc groaned with primal rage. He swiped at her again, but this time Rose caught the punch. "I'm done holding back," Rose said. How strong was she?

She grabbed his arm, digging her fingers into his flesh. Dulvoc screamed and tried to hit her with his other hand. She blocked it with her elbow, and grabbed that arm too. She put her foot Dulvoc's chest, and pulled on his arms. After a few seconds of primal screaming, Dulvoc's arms were ripped from their sockets.

Rose then grabbed his horns and pulled. It wasn't long before she ripped his head off. "I have won," Rose said. And then spoke a sentence in the Ancient Language that Lynde didn't recognize, but assumed was just the same phrase repeated.

How did she win that? There was no way she had such strength; it was nearly impossible—according to Rose—to grant someone enough strength to overpower an Urgal with magic! Her strength was beyond what any human could achieve naturally. No Human since or before Roran Stronghammer had beaten an Urgal unarmed and alone. How did Rose do that?

Lynde stared at Rose, wanting an explanation. Rose met Lynde's gaze and said, "I'll tell you later."

Roran, shocked at what had transpired, as almost speechless. After a few minutes, he said to the guards, "Throw them in a cell."

The guards escorted Lynde, Rose, and Arlen through the castle, and into a small prison. There were only a couple of cells, and the three of them were put in one of them. They were made of cobblestone, smelled dank, and had a couple of benches on the walls. The wall facing the hallway was completely made of iron bars, with a door of iron. There wouldn't be much privacy here.

They were unshackled, and thrown into the cell.

Lynde turned to Rose again, as did Arlen, wanting answers to how Rose had such strength. Rose hesitated, and said, "Are you sure you want to hear this story?"

"Yes," Lynde said automatically.

"What about you, Arlen?" He nodded and Rose sighed. "Very well." She sat down on a bench, and Lynde and Arlen sat on the opposite bench. "It's time you know who I am, and what I am." She hesitated again and said, "I'm an Elf."


	12. Secret of the Master

Arlen stared at Rose. Rose had just said that she was an Elf. While this explained brutally beating a Kull in unarmed combat, this didn't explain everything.

Elves were supposed to fair, exotic in some regards, with voices that sounded melodious. Rose had a hard voice, which sounded nothing like how he would expect an Elf to sound. Her skin was rough, while he imagined the skin of an Elf would be smoother. While Elves were described as having beautiful faces, and being ageless, Rose had definitely had some years behind her, and… while he couldn't exactly judge beauty, she looked nothing like how Elves were described. They were supposed to have pointed ears, which Rose didn't have. He was also somewhat sure Elves didn't have brown hair like Rose's. She didn't seem anything like an Elf.

Another thing was that she didn't have the demeanor he had expected from an Elf. They were supposed to be calm, controlled, wise, respectful, and not eat meat or anything like that. Rose was… different, and had no reverence to anyone except Roran Stronghammer. She acted nothing like an Elf.

Though she did have some traits that did go along with those of Elves. She was incredibly strong and a powerful magician. She also seemed experienced beyond her supposed years. Maybe she was an Elf, but Arlen wasn't sure.

"I'm not sure I believe you," Arlen said.

"Understandable," Rose said. "But I am an Elf. It's just I'm an unorthodox Elf. I don't have the same values as Elves, but that doesn't mean I'm not one."

"You look nothing like an Elf," Arlen countered.

"I used magic to change my appearance."

"As a disguise?"

"No," Rose explained. "It's very common for Elves to change their appearance to something that they judge more beautiful. I decided that a form like a Human's has a certain beauty to it, and chose to change my appearance to this. It just so happens that I've lived in the lands of humans for nearly a decade, while I've had this form for nearly two centuries."

His thoughts went back to the story about her sister, and asked, "So your sister who went to war was an Elf as well?"

"Of course."

"Wait, she has a sister?" Lynde said. She had been quiet for a while, and he wondered how she was taking all this.

"Yes," Rose said, irritated. "I had a sister, she went to war, fought alongside the Varden, and was killed."

Lynde's face saddened. "Oh, I'm sorry."

"It happened a while ago, and I don't intend to revisit those memories," Rose said. Lynde was quiet for a while after that.

Arlen had another question. "Why didn't you go to war?"

Rose frowned, but she did answer him, which he hadn't expected her to. "I didn't go because… I was a coward. I was afraid that the Empire could kill me if I went into battle, so I… didn't go. If I had gone, maybe I would've lived, maybe I would've died. But maybe… It doesn't matter now; what's in the past is in the past, and there's nothing anyone can do about that."

The cell was quiet for a time. It was obvious that Rose didn't want to talk. While Arlen had more questions, they could wait for another time.

It was a while before Lynde asked something. "What's your real name then?" Rose looked at her odd. "'Rose' doesn't sound like a very Elf-like name, so what is your real name?"

"I would have you know that 'Rose' is a name that an Elf would be proud to bear!" she said. "But the name I was born is Lilyon, though I prefer 'Rose'." He wondered if it was a coincidence that she had decided to name herself after a flower, and that her parents decided the same thing.

Rose began to chuckle. "What is it?" Arlen asked.

"I'll tell you later," Rose replied.

Then something occurred to him. "If you're an Elf, why don't you get us out of here? You could probably cast some spell or something."

"No, I'm not going to do that," Rose—or Lilyon, he wasn't sure what to called her—said.

"Why?"

"I have great respect for Roran Stronghammer. I wouldn't want to shame him in any way, and defeating him in any way—including escaping—would disrespect him." Arlen sighed and shook his head. "It's mostly because he avenged my sister."

He nodded. That sounded right. "What battle did she fall in?"

"Urȗ'baen, actually."

He nodded. "A lot of good men died there. My father told me that."

"Your father?" Rose said forgetfully.

"He was a soldier in Galbatorix's army."

"Yes, I know that—Lynde told me. I just forgot for a second."

He chuckled and turned to Lynde. "Elves live for centuries, collecting memories, and they still misplace them same as us."

The three of them shared a brief laugh before a guard tapped on the bars, gaining the attention of everyone. "Stronghammer wants to see you three."

"What for?" Arlen asked.

"I think someone's here for you."

Someone? "Who is it?"

"I don't know, just someone." He quickly went through all the possibilities of who might want them. The Riders, but they didn't know about Artsanna, he didn't think, unless Vorashz had told them. The Queen's Magicians were certainly a possibility, and the only one that he could think of. He almost wanted to think Artsanna was asking for them, but that was a remote possibility. "Come on, let's go," the guard said, letting them out of the cell.

They were escorted to the hall where Roran sat and talked with a man. This strange man didn't look like one of the Queen's Magicians. His garb was that of a wanderer almost, except that he had a sword at his belt and a single piece of armor on his chest. He had pale, sickly looking skin, and dark red hair. And while it might have been his imagination, it looked like he had red eyes as dark as his hair. It also might have been his imagination, but Rose blanched at the sight of him.

The strange man turned to them. "Ah, here they are; the Elf, her apprentice, and… I honestly don't know who this is," the man said, the final part he said as he gestured at Arlen.

"She's an Elf?" Roran said, surprised.

"Yes. What did you think—that a woman of this stature could slay an Urgal with her bare hands?"

"I know you could," Rose said under her breath. Arlen wondered what Rose meant.

"And do you know why?"

"Of course I do." The man made a sickening smile as Rose turned to Roran and yelled, "He's a Shade! Kill him!"


	13. A Shared Threat

Roran's guards rushed the Shade, even though humans would have no chance against them. Rose knew what she had to do, though it wouldn't be easy. No matter how strong an Elf was, a Shade was stronger.

The Shade drew his sword and cleanly sliced off the ends of the guards' spears. He then spoke a spell, and they all fell dead. He was good, but not good enough.

Rose considered a method of attack. She sensed the wards around the Shade, though she couldn't figure out what they were. They were most likely protecting him from physical harm and magic, though there were two weapons that they always forgot—fists. All she had to do was wait for an opportunity to strike.

It seemed as though Roran was doing the same thing as Rose—watching and waiting for the right moment to attack.

Rose attacked the Shade's mind, and she went reeling back in pain. His mind was like a ball of knives; unable to grasp without losing something. As he cut off a man's head he turned to Rose.

"Oh, no you don't," he said. He parried a spear and stabbed the man holding it without even looking at him. "If you wanted to know anything about me, all you had to do was ask. But it's too late now, and all you'll get is my name. Learn it before you die." He pointed his sword to her. "I am Raud, your greatest nightmare!"

Raud lunged, and Rose stopped the blade between her hands. Blood dripped from her hands, though she tried to ignore the pain. She saw that the metal was normal steel and had no wards around it. This would be easy then. She lifted her foot onto the blade, and pressed down on it as she shouted, "Brisinger!" Her wards protected her from the heat as the metal quickly heated up, and eventually, broke in half.

Raud stumbled back, looking at the broken sword as she uttered a quick healing spell for her hands. As she finished the spell, Raud said, "This won't stop me." He then lunged with the broken sword, which she deflected with a kick. She then punched him square in the jaw, sending him back a step.

After a moment he shook his head and punched her right back. The force of it was enough that it disoriented her to the point of losing her bearings. When she regained her senses, she was across the room, lying against a wall with a pain in her back.

Arlen had been given his sword back, but he wasn't doing very well against the Shade. While the wards she had placed around him were holding, there was nothing she could do to stop Raud from throwing him around with a spell or something. She had no idea why Raud was letting him live, except perhaps that he wasn't worth the effort to kill.

At her side was Lynde. She helped her up and then gave an odd smile. "What?" Rose said, confused and annoyed at her grin in such a grim situation.

"I…"

Before she could say anything, the doors of the hall swung open and smashed against the walls. Raud turned to face the doors a split second before Rose did. Standing there was the massive, club wielding Kull that was Vorashz the strong. He certainly knew how to make a distracting entrance, even dramatic.

Vorashz bellowed loudly, piercing the wooden walls of the hall. Rose crumbled to the ground, grasping her ears. They hurt badly from the noise, and she wanted him to stop. When the roaring stopped, Vorashz yelled, "Raud, I want you dead! Dead for all that you have done!"

"Can you get specific? I've done so much." he replied casually.

"You have killed six Riders and seven Dragons! You slaughtered half my clan while they slept, denying them a good death! And you have done thousands of other acts that deserve my vengeance!"

"Then take it, why not?"

Vorashz threw down his club, and charged at Raud head first—a predictable move from an Urgal. When he was about a yard from him, he jumped and changed position. Before Raud could react, Vorashz kicked him in the side, sending him flying across the hall.

Vorashz landed and skidded to a halt near Roran. Vorashz nodded at Roran and said respectfully, "Stronghammer."

Raud on the other hand landed less gracefully. He slammed into the ground with a thud, and just when Rose thought he was dead, he began to stand up. "In six hundred years, no one has surprised me like that," Raud said. He cast aside the remnant of his sword, confusing Rose. "But you're going to have to do better than that to kill me, Kull!"

Then there was a loud thumping sound, and a familiar roar coming from outside the hall. Then, bounding into the hall, Artsanna landed on Raud, knocking him down. So that was what Lynde was smiling about.

Raud spoke a spell, and Artsanna was forced off him into the ceiling. He ran away from her and let go of the spell, letting Artsanna fall to the ground with a loud slam. "Artsanna!" Lynde yelled, concerned. Artsanna seemed pained by the experience, but would be alright with some healing.

Rose turned to Vorashz. An unspoken truce was agreed upon, and each would give defeating Raud their all. With that, they charged Raud, without any fear of the other.

Rose reached him first, and jumped over him with ease. She winded up a punch, which she let him see, so he would forget about Vorashz with his horns. Vorashz slammed into Raud, horns down, and sent him flying towards her punch. She hit him in the jaw, which sent a bolt of pain through her entire arm. He landed, once again, hard on the floor.

Rose drew her dagger, gave it to Vorashz, and picked up Raud, his back bloody. She held him by his arms, and he tried struggling, but he seemed to be running out of strength. Vorashz was about to stab Raud in the chest when he yelled a spell that sent Vorashz flying away.

Rose wondered where he got the strength to do that. Then she suddenly felt weak, as if… No, he couldn't be doing that. As he threw her off with ease, he stood and smiled. He was stealing their energy, though she wasn't sure how.

Raud spoke a spell, drawing Rose's dagger to his hand. He raised it high, ready to kill. Then a hammer connected with his head, slamming into his skull.

As Raud's body fell over to his side, a mist formed around him. It enveloped his body, and moved with it as it crumbled. When the mist disappeared, his body wasn't there. His clothing and armor crumbled on the ground without him.

Vorashz stood up, and sneered at Roran. "Why did you do that?" he growled at Roran.

"It was the easiest way to get rid of him," Roran replied.

"Shades are not so easily killed!" Vorashz said. "He will appear somewhere else, and keep killing. We should have killed him when we could instead of letting him get away!"

She found it somewhat ironic that Roran Stronghammer, the cousin of Eragon Shadeslayer, knew so little about killing Shades. Only a stab to the heart could kill a Shade, which made it very difficult for some. But he deserved someone to defend him, so Rose said, "At least we're alive."

Vorashz laughed. She would never get used to the sound of Urgal laughter. "Yes we are, strong one. What is your name?"

"Rose," she replied.

"Well, Rose, you are strong for a human," Vorashz said.

"I am an Elf, actually. But I am still strong for an Elf!"

"Well, that is good!" Vorashz clapped her on the shoulder. It hurt a little, but not much. "But how are you stronger?"

"Unlike most elves, I eat meat."

"Ah! It always puzzled me why Elves would never eat meat during the war."

"Hey!" Roran said, hammer ready. Rose followed Roran's gaze to Artsanna. Lynde was at her side, trying to heal her, though it probably wouldn't help much. "Why is there a rogue Dragon in my home?"

This would not be easy to explain in the slightest.


	14. Making Plans

Rose explained the whole story of how Artsanna's egg had come into Lynde's possession and the events since then to Roran. While it was a risk, they did not exactly have a choice. All throughout, Roran just sat in his chair, only interrupting to ask one or two questions. After helping Lynde heal Artsanna, Vorashz took a place standing near Rose. Finally, when Rose was done, Roran said, "That's quite a story. I can't think of many as great."

Not sure if he believed him, she said in the Ancient Language—which she had not fully exercised in a long time—, "What I have told you is true."

He might not have known what she said, but it might not have mattered. "I believe you, but I'm not sure what to do now." She was relieved, but at the same time worried about something else.

Vorashz spoke up. "The Shade was here for them once, so he will look for them again," Vorashz said. "I know these lands. I can find a place to hide them."

"As much as I want to help you, you did kill one of the Queen's Magicians," Roran said. After a moment's consideration, he continued, "I might be able to convince them to call off the hunt, but it won't be easy. Until then, lay low, and don't let anyone see that Dragon—you've got enough trouble without people thinking you're the egg thief."

"True," Rose said. "We don't want Alaric on our tail," Artsanna snorted and turned around to look at her tail, "so to speak."

"Who's he?" Lynde asked.

"Yeah, who's Alaric?" Arlen added.

Rose groaned, pained by their ignorance. How could they not know who Alaric is? Instead of questioning that, she explained, "Alaric is the chief Dragon Rider in Alagaësia. While Eragon is their leader, he can only go so far being in the wilderness. The best Eragon can do is instruct Alaric on general matters, and leave the field decisions up to him."

"Why was he named leader?" Arlen asked. "Why not Queen Arya of the elves?"

"Exactly that; she's the queen," she replied, even more annoyed. "She must think of her people first, and a Rider must think of all people. Besides, Magnora hatched for him."

That name they'd heard of; Rose could tell from their expressions. Magnora was the massive, red-gold Dragon that was hatched large. It was rumored that her size rivaled that of Sapphira's, though Rose was unsure of that. Everyone had heard of her, if only through legends—like the legends about her burning an entire army, though whose army was unclear.

After that, Roran spoke up. "Sounds like it's been decided then. Vorashz will take you four somewhere to hide—somewhere I don't want to know—and I'll try to get them to give up the search for you. In the meantime, I invite you to stay here tonight."

Rose looked at him questioningly. "Why?"

Roran shrugged. "You four have been through enough without being put out in the cold. Besides, everyone saw Artsanna, didn't they?"

Artsanna scoffed—or as close to a scoff as a Dragon could get. _These silver scales aren't just for show, like most Dragons' are. I blended in with the clouds perfectly._

"Well, that's a relief," Roran noted, clearly shaken by the Dragon's words in his mind. "But I think plenty of people have seen you now." He gestured to the guards staring nervously at the odd assortment of people.

"I can wipe their minds of Artsanna," Rose noted. "They won't remember a thing." Roran stroked his beard contemplatively. She had the sense that he probably didn't want the minds of his people invaded, so she said, "It's either that, or someone might betray us to the Magicians or the Riders."

Finally Roran spoke. "While I trust my people, I know my trust hasn't always been given well. Alright then, remove their memories, but only when you go."

Vorashz scoffed. Everyone turned to him—the Kull had been somewhat silent for a while. He looked back at them. "We don't have the time to rest. That Shade will be back, and we must be as far away from here as possible when that is."

Rose could see he had a point. "He's right; the more time we spend here, the more likely Raud or someone else is going to find us. We need to leave now."

"In case you haven't noticed," Arlen said, "night has fallen." Rose looked to the windows, and sure enough, it was night. "We can't travel at night without it being suspicious, and I think we're all more than a little tired."

"He's right," Lynde said. "We need to rest for the night and leave in the morning."

Rose sighed in frustration. They also had a good point—Humans needed their rest, after all. "Very well, but we leave at dawn." Rose turned to Roran. "If you will have us, Stronghammer, I would ask for your hospitality tonight."

"You will have it," Roran said.

Soon enough, Rose, Lynde, Arlen, and Artsanna were given dinner and lodging in the castle. Vorashz was offered a room, but he refused telling them that he preferred sleeping at his camp than a place where Humans could find him so easily. The rooms were comfortable enough—an improvement over hard earth and cold snow.

Rose was meditating when there was a knock at the door. She tried sensing who it was by their thoughts, but found they were guarded. It was obvious this was someone who had training in such things, which limited it to either Roran, Vorashz, Lynde, possibly Artsanna, or someone who hadn't been in the castle. Rose opened the door, ready to fight if they wanted one. Once she saw it was Lynde, she lowered her guard.

"Hello, Lynde," Rose said, as warmly as she could manage. Her expression seemed grave. "What's the matter?"

"Rose," Lynde said, "I was thinking, and… Why would a Shade be after us?"

Rose had considered that very same thing, and found no good answer. "I don't know, Lynde. Perhaps some people want something, and are willing to either create or ally with a Shade to get it. Remember Durza?"

"Everyone remembers Durza," Lynde said. "But who would do it? Shades are pure evil; they can't be good. And why haven't the Riders killed him yet?"

"I don't know."

Lynde's eyes grew wide like she realized something awful. "What if the Riders are the one's behind this Shade?"

Rose sighed. All her training and Lynde still lacked some common sense. "The Riders exist for two reasons: to limit the advancement of society, and to kill Shades. Anything else the Riders do could be done by someone else."

"What if the Shade comes again though? I don't know if I can face him."

"You won't and I will." She went over to her quiver and searched for an arrow with a blue quill. Once she found it, she presented it to Lynde. She was obviously distracted by the small blue jewel near the tip, and the fine metal working all about it. "This arrow was forged to kill things worse than Shades—as strange as that sounds. It has spells around it to make it never miss, piece wards, be immune to harm, and unleash a powerful spell on the recipient that kills them instantly. I have only used this once, and that was only have I had run out of all my other arrows. When I need to use it again, it will be used on something that deserves it."

Lynde was taken aback by all this. She looked away from the arrow, at Rose, and asked, "Who built it?"

"A very good question for when you don't have to sleep." She turned Lynde around to the door and said, "To be bed with you."

"Alright, master," Lynde said.

"And don't call me master; it sounds like you're my slave."

"Alright, Rose." As Lynde left, Rose closed the door behind her.


	15. The Kull

In the morning, it was time for Arlen and his allies to move out. Roran gave them breakfast and supplies for their journey—wherever it went. They met Vorashz outside of Carvahall, where Rose announced something. "I'm leaving your company for a time."

Arlen was surprised, but not nearly as much as Lynde. She seemed speechless, but she did manage to say, "Why?"

"You're going to need a sword at some point, Lynde," Rose explained. "But not just a sword, as close to a Rider's sword as you'll get." Arlen wondered what she meant by that. "And in order for you to have that, I must go to Gil'ead. But don't worry; I will come back to you when I have what I need." She then turned to Vorashz. "I'll need to know where you're taking them if I'm going there too."

"If I must," Vorashz said. After a pause, they spoke again. Arlen supposed they had exchanged the location with their minds. "I look forward to fighting alongside you again, Rose."

"And I you." Rose turned back to Arlen and Lynde. "Protect each other, and make sure Lynde learns swordplay before I get back."

"I will," Arlen said. Finally, some talk of actually training Lynde. He was beginning to think he was along for no reason.

"And, Artsanna." The Dragon turned her head from the clouds to Rose. "Try not to attract too much attention. We are hiding from the Empire."

Artsanna made a sound that seemed like sighing. _If I must._

"Good, and try to control your thoughts so that not as many people hear them."

 _I do, but I think Arlen is entitled to know our conversation._

Rose sighed. "If that's the way you think, I won't stop you." Rose looked to all of them. "I wish to see you all before long, and I will make sure I do. Farewell." After a round of farewells from the rest of them, Rose left, and Vorashz began to lead them towards the mountain range called the Spine.

* * *

The four of them made their way into the Spine. Artsanna complained about how she wasn't allowed to fly, but Vorashz told her that if she tried, she would probably crash into the mountain, or draw unwanted attention to her. In any case, by the end of the day, Arlen and Lynde were exhausted.

As they stopped in a clearing, Vorashz seemed disappointed. "I forget how weak Humans are compared to my strength. Of course, it's disappointing comparing anyone to me."

Arlen knew trying to fight with a Kull was a huge mistake—it was simply common sense. But it seemed that Lynde lacked this. "I wish you wouldn't do that."

Vorashz looked somewhat quizzically at Lynde. "I am strong. Why should I hide that?"

"Today I have heard you boast about your strength since nearly sunrise," Lynde said. "I'm tired of it, so I would like it if you stopped."

"Ha! If you come across Raud, will you ask him nicely to lie down and die?" That was rude.

"I have Artsanna," Lynde countered. "Why would I need to fight him?" Artsanna lightly tapped on the back of Lynde's head. She was nearly knocked over, and she was lucky that the spikes on her tail weren't so dull, or else she might have been hurt badly. "Why'd you do that?"

Artsanna's red eyes narrowed on Lynde. _Next time we fight Raud, I expect you to help._

"How?"

 _Dragons cannot do magic. You do not remember?_

"No, I didn't." She looked apologetic. "I'm sorry."

 _Do not worry, little one. I forgive you. But remember to fight next time we encounter Raud._

"I will."

Vorashz then gave them each tasks to do to set up camp. "Arlen, gather firewood. Lynde, set up the tents for you and Arlen. Once Arlen is done with his task, he will help you if you need it. I will hunt for all of us. And, Artsanna, hunt for yourself."

"What about you?" Arlen asked, curious. "What about your tent."

"I don't like tents," Vorashz said and went into forest. Artsanna left to, but in a different direction.

Arlen set about his task to find firewood, looking for some good sized branches. He remembered to go after the drier ones, as his father had taught him to. He didn't remember why he had been taught that, since it was so long ago, but it was proving useful now. Though there didn't seem to be much dry wood in the forest because of the snow. He came back with barely enough wood for a fire.

Lynde had just set up her tent when she saw this and said, "If you bring some wet wood, I can make it dry."

Interested, he asked, "How?"

"With magic," she said. "Rose taught me a spell for this."

After he found this out, he set the firewood down, and went back to find more. Once he came back, Lynde had both tents set up and went over to him. She mumbled a few words over the wood and the water flushed out of it. It was as dry as if he found it during a summer drought. Now they had enough for a larger fire.

When Vorashz came back, they had the campfire all set up and burning. Over his shoulder were two dead deer. "Good work," he said. "Now we will eat." Using a cooking pot, melted snow no one had stepped on, Vorashz's deer, and some of the vegetables Roran supplied them with, they made a stew which tasted decent.

After they were done, Vorashz spoke to them. "I know that I have kept our destination a secret, but that was only so that if we are captured, I would be the only one they try to rip the truth from. But now that we have entered this valley, I believe it is safe to say where we are going. We are going to Tribe Ugnok; my tribe."

Vorashz's news frightened Arlen. They had been attacked and hounded by Urgals and now they were going into a whole den of them. Why were they doing this? He stood up to try and seem strong in front of Vorashz, but he wasn't much taller than him sitting down. "We are not going to go to an Urgal village," he declared. "They attacked my village and killed my father!"

Vorashz laughed. "That was probably Tribe Buduk. They are too loyal to the Empire, and not too bright."

"And Dulvoc?"

"Also of Tribe Buduk. He learned how to speak Human-speak well so that he could talk to them. Too many of them are doing this; becoming Human-like. We must be as Urgal as we can so that we do not become weak." Vorashz shook his head.

After a moment, he continued. "There are some things I will tell you before we go to my village. They are important, so remember them. Nar Votreg is the leader, and he became that way after he challenged our last leader some years ago. He is wary of outsiders, especially not-Urgals, so do not test him.

"You must also know that he considers me a rival, but I do not want to be leader. He does not realize this though, and may try to hinder us in some ways."

Vorashz continued to tell Arlen and Lynde about Urgal customs that they needed to be aware of. While he didn't tell them everything, the rest was probably unimportant. Once they were done, they knew how they should act around Urgals.

It was then that Arlen had a question. While unrelated to the Urgal customs, it was something he wanted to know nonetheless. "Why were you after us?"

Vorashz laughed. How was that funny? "The Riders asked me to hunt the ones who stole Artsanna's egg, and I gratefully accepted the challenge. Alaric Giant-Tamer himself asked me. But you are not the ones who stole it, so I have no quarrel with you. In fact, it might be said that you stole it from the thief."

Now Arlen had an even better question. "What kind of person steals a Dragon egg?"

"A very strong one. According to the Riders, a Shade. I can guess that it was Raud, and that he wants the Dragon back."

Artsanna snorted as she came into the clearing, her snout covered with the blood of some animal or another. I do not think Raud could take me. Lynde began to fuss over how Artsanna had blood all over her, and the Dragon agreed to clean herself.

While she cleaned, Vorashz noted, "He could do it. His mind is strong and dangerous. I have never seen another with such defenses. He might easily bend your will to his."

Artsanna didn't pause from her cleaning to say, _I would like to see him try._

Vorashz laughed. "You have the spirit of an Urgal, Silverscales." Artsanna seemed to like that name.

Sometime later, they went to bed. Artsanna curled up outside Lynde's tent, and Vorashz dug under a snow bank to sleep—which Arlen thought was odd, but he wouldn't question it. While it was cold, Arlen did manage to go to sleep in the shadow of the Spine.


	16. The Lion's Den

When Vorashz led the three of them—Arlen, Lynde, and Artsanna—to a cave entrance, Arlen stopped to ask something. "Why are we going into a cave?" It looked dark and damp, and he wondered if there were terrible creatures of some sort inside. Asking what was in there was only natural.

"My tribe is inside," Vorashz said.

Lynde furrowed her brow in confusion. "Wouldn't that get tough with how tall you people are?"

Vorashz nodded. "Sometimes, but if it's too small, we make it bigger."

Vorashz led them into the cave. Arlen was nervous to enter the den of the beast, but he had to be brave to do what was necessary. He said that he would train Lynde and he would, and in order to keep his word he would have to control his fear to keep from running. His heart pounded anyway.

The cave wasn't very bright. They were nearly ten yards from the entrance and it was almost completely pitch black. He turned to Artsanna. "Could you brighten this place up?"

Artsanna turned to Arlen and made some sort of face—he wasn't an expert on Dragon expressions. _I am not old enough to breathe fire!_ The voice from her mind was angry. It seemed as though not being able to breathe fire was a sensitive subject.

"If you want it to be brighter, then let me," Vorashz said. "Brisinger." An orb of fire formed in front of them, casting out the darkness of the cave.

"Thank you, Vorashz," Arlen said.

Vorashz looked slightly confused. "I learned many words of your language in the war, but I do not know that one."

"Well isn't that a shame," Lynde said. "It's…" Lynde seemed stumped on how to explain it. "Is it alright if I show you in your mind?"

"Very well." After a moment's silence, Vorashz said, "Ah, good." He smiled. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," Lynde said.

They continued down the cave in mostly silence except for their footsteps and Artsanna's tail scrapping along the ground occasionally. Vorashz's light went ahead of them, which was certainly handy. Arlen began to wonder when it would be when they got to Vorashz's village.

Suddenly, a group of Urgals came out from various hiding places. Each of them were armed and seemed like they were about to attack. Arlen was about to draw his sword when they stopped. It seemed that they recognized Vorashz.

Vorashz and another Urgal—not a Kull, but he still looked strong—spoke to each other enthusiastically in their own tongue. Realizing he was leaving the others out of the conversation, he turned to them and said, "Arlen, Lynde, Artsanna, this is Rartvak, a warrior of my tribe, and what you would call a friend to me." Vorashz turned back to the Urgal he had been talking to. "Rartvak, this is Arlen and Lynde," he said gesturing to each of them. "The Dragon is Artsanna."

Rartvak almost cautiously at Vorashz. "One of them is a Rider?"

"Yes; Lynde," Vorashz noted.

Once again Rartvak gave Vorashz a cautious look. "Is it the light or are the Dragon's scales silver?"

"They are." Vorashz looked very seriously at Rartvak. "This Dragon was stolen from the Riders as an egg, but found her destined Rider anyway."

Rartvak snorted. "Nar Votreg told us of a silver Dragon that the Riders, the Empire, and even Tribe Buduk are looking for."

"They are the same," Vorashz said. Rartvak looked at Artsanna then Lynde and finally Arlen. "Rartvak, they are not the ones who stole it. You know as I do that Giant-Tamer said the thief was a Shade." Seeing that Rartvak was still unbelieving, Vorash said, "I have seen the memories of the Dragon. I give you my word that they are not the thieves."

"Vorashz, it is not be me you need to convince—it is Nar Votreg." That didn't sound good. "Come with us."

Rartvak brought them to the village. There Arlen saw that Urgals weren't too different from Humans—at least not how they built their villages. Wooden carvings of animals adorned the doorways of their houses, and in the center of the village was a tall building that reminded him of the hall in Cathalorn. Though there were plenty of differences, such as being underground.

They were brought to building in the center of the village where a huge Kull waited for them. While other Urgals wore the skins of animals that Arlen either didn't recognize, or recognized as predators or the like, this one wore the skin of something that looked like a bear but much larger. Over his entire body were scars, like Vorashz had, but more numerous and some were more faded than others. He was intimidating.

Rartvak stepped forward and said, "Nar Votreg." So that was Votreg.

"Yes?" Votreg's voice was higher than most Urgals, though definitely deeper than most humans', and had the same mangled accent that the other Urgals did.

"Vorashz has returned with Humans. One of them has bonded with the Dragon that was stolen from the Riders." There was a short pause. "Vorashz claims that they did not steal the egg, but I have brought them to you for judgement."

Arlen waited for Vorashz to defend them, but after some time he didn't. He gave Vorashz an urgent look that he either didn't see it or ignored it. Why wouldn't he say anything?

Suddenly, Arlen felt something in his head. It was an invading presence, and it brought forth memories without his consent. He was pained by the whole thing, and crumpled to the ground holding his head. It felt like his mind was being attacked somehow!

"Don't struggle," Votreg said. "It will only hurt more if you do."

He was doing it? Someone like him was invading his mind? He felt anger towards Votreg—a boiling anger for doing such a thing. He tried reaching for his sword, but his arms wouldn't move! He was helpless.

He had heard stories about this—not from his father, but tradesmen and other veterans. Magicians could invade peoples' minds, shift through their memories, and control their actions. It was terrifying to see it—to feel it—in person.

Before long, the presence retreated, and he could move his arms again. He drew his sword, and charged Votreg. Behind him Vorashz spoke a word, and he stopped—unable to move his legs. He looked at Vorashz, betrayed. "Why?"

"I needed to see your memories," Votreg said, "nothing more. I didn't mean to hurt you. Without that, I would not be able to judge you accordingly." Arlen was confused, though partly about how well Votreg spoke the language of Humans.

Arlen was released as Rartvak asked, "And what have you chosen, Nar Votreg?"

"You are not thieves." That was a relief. "Though you are not welcome in the village." Votreg looked to Vorashz. "Vorashz, take then to the ges'taos."

Vorashz led the three of them out of the village, back the way they came, to a cave with a lower ceiling than most. The inside was furnished, with chairs that looked human sized. "Oh, guest house," Lynde said, slightly amused.

Arlen turned to Vorashz. "Why didn't you tell me he was going to invade my mind?"

"I did not know he would do that," Vorashz replied from outside of the room. He was too tall to enter, so he was staying outside with Artsanna. "I have never seen him pass judgement in that way."

He didn't think there was much else to say to Vorashz, so he didn't say it. Instead he waited until Vorashz left to ask Lynde something. "Can you teach me how to protect my mind?"

Lynde seemed surprised. "Why ask me?"

"Without Rose, you're the only one I trust to teach me this," Arlen said, "and I don't completely trust Rose either."

"So… when do we start?" Lynde asked.

"Your training with swords or my training with the mind, because either one I would be fine with starting now."

Lynde smiled. "Really? Right now?"

"I don't see why not." And so, after so long waiting, Lynde's training began.


	17. Return to the Fold

It was the day after they arrived at Vorashz's village, and they were already hard at work training. Arlen taught Lynde everything he knew about swordsmanship, and she taught him what she knew about mental defenses—though she had to admit, she didn't know much. They were sparring outside the guest house with wooden swords Lynde had carved with magic when Vorashz came over.

The Kull mage was angry, though not at them. She wanted to find out what, but first she had to finish the match. As Arlen said, "Real battles don't have timeouts." So she fought to end it quickly.

As she made a lunge, Arlen parried and struck her in the arm. She winced, dropped her sword, and grabbed her arm. Arlen seemed concerned, but tried his best not to let it show—as much as he failed anyway. "You can't get careless. Your enemies are not going to be as forgiving as I am."

"You've gotten awfully cold, haven't you?" Lynde said, merely as an observation. She was grateful that he had decided to teach her, despite everything that had happened. He left his home, and even stuck with them after being captured and fighting a Shade. While he had her thanks, he was being rather cold.

Arlen sighed. "I guess that's me being my dad. He trained me, Ehren, and all the guardsmen back home just like this."

"Well it's working. I haven't made as many mistakes as I did yesterday." She patted him on the shoulder. "Just don't be like this all the time. Okay?"

He nodded. "Okay."

She nodded and looked to Vorashz—still angered by something. "What is it Vorashz?" Lynde asked.

"I spoke with Nar Votreg," Vorashz explained. "He says you will not have his protection if the Empire comes for you." Lynde was upset by this, but Arlen was just surprised. But before either of them could say anything, Vorashz noted, "He acts for the village. He does not want Urgal blood shed needlessly."

Lynde scoffed. "More like he's afraid of the Empire."

Vorashz looked at her with a steely gaze. "We would not be remembered if we all died. A senseless, needless death is something that we Urgals avoid, as should you. If there was any other reason to fight, or it wasn't the endless armies of the Empire we would do battle with, then we would fight. But we can't win if Queen Nasuada chooses to fight us for you."

Lynde was frustrated, but Arlen put his hand on her shoulder. "Don't worry. The Empire won't find us."

Lynde nodded in agreement. "Who would guess a couple of northerners would hide out with a bunch of Urgals?" She couldn't think of anyone so she decided to get back to sparring.

* * *

Several days after Lynde and the others arrived at Vorashz's village, Artsanna spotted someone. She did not like being underground, so she spent most of her time looking out for Rose or the Empire. When she did spot someone, she told Lynde immediately, which—in addition to costing her a match with Arlen—caused her to panic. Someone had found them.

 _Can you tell who it is?_ Lynde asked.

 _No, though they are a very fast runner_ , Artsanna replied. _I will deal with them._

 _Artsanna, wait. If they're fast, they might be Rose or someone._

 _They are not. I can see that they have dark hair._ Lynde was silent after that, so Artsanna attacked.

Lynde watched the whole thing through Artsanna's eyes. She took off from her hiding place amongst the Spine's mountains, and gained much height before she swooped down on the person. Just as she was about to land and crush the person, they got out of the way faster than any Human could. This had to be an Elf.

Hopefully she could defeat an Elf. They were stronger than Kull, and each one of them was a magician, making them very hard to stop. And on top of that, many of them had more experience than any Human could without being a Rider. But none could be as fierce as Artsanna—hopefully—so at least she may have some advantage.

The stranger was interestingly dressed. She had ranger's garb similar but different to Rose's, a tattered black cape, and a quiver on her back. She definitely reminded Lynde of Rose, but it was obviously not her; her face, her hair, even her clothes were different.

As Artsanna was about to pounce, the stranger spoke in a familiar voice. "Artsanna, stop." This gave enough reason for Artsanna to pause since very few knew her name. "It's me—Rose."

Lynde wasn't sure about this, and Artsanna spoke the question both of them had. _If you are Rose, why do you look different?_

The stranger who may have been Rose replied with her mind—which did feel like Rose's _. I changed my appearance with magic when I noticed that the Empire had a wanted poster up for me. She presented the image of the poster, which had Rose's face on it—as poor as the representation was. Now quit being so paranoid and let me through, Artsanna._

Lynde was mostly convinced, though Artsanna wasn't. _Tell me who named me and what I am named for. Then I will let you pass._

Rose sighed tiredly _. You wanted to be named after a star, so I suggested the North Star—Artsanna—but ultimately, you named yourself._

Artsanna was convinced, though ashamed that she mistook Rose for an enemy. _It's alright_ , Lynde said. _I probably would have made the same mistake._ That seemed to comfort Artsanna, though only a little.

Artsanna led Rose to the entrance, and Lynde returned to her body to find Arlen stranding over her with a concerned look on his face. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Lynde replied. "Oh, by the way, Rose is back."

Arlen was a little surprised, but his expression was ultimately neutral. "Well it's about time," he said. "We'll need to get word to Rartvak to make sure he doesn't attack her."

"Vorashz can tell him." She searched out Vorashz with her mind, and contacted him. He was surprised, though not too terribly _. Rose is back. Artsanna encountered her outside._

Vorashz spoke back. _I will tell the outer guard not to attack._

 _She's in disguise._ She sent him the memory of what she looked like through Artsanna's eyes. Vorashz acknowledged her and severed the contact.

She then decided to go to the entrance of the village to wait for Rose with Arlen. After waiting she didn't know how long, Rose arrived.

What she looked like through Artsanna's eyes looked a little different through Lynde's. She had hair black like charred firewood and her features had become more angular. Had she looked like that when she was an elf? She still had her Human ears, so perhaps not exactly. Her clothes also looked darker.

Lynde had told Arlen that she was disguised, so he wasn't that surprised. Though he did ask something. "Did it hurt to do that to your face?"

Rose nodded. "Yes, and it's going to hurt when I undo it. It didn't hurt when I did my hair though—that I did with coal dust."

Lynde cocked an eyebrow. "You didn't use magic to do that?"

"I did use magic. It's just that I had to bond coal dust to my hair in order to make it black immediately," Rose explained. "I can do something more permanent, but it wouldn't have taken effect right away." She paused. "I might show you how to do that one day, Lynde, but not now. I'm going to show you something else you can do with magic."

A lesson! Rose didn't teach her much these days, so now that she was, she was excited. "What is it?" Lynde asked enthusiastically.

"I'm going to show you how to forge a sword."


	18. Forging With Magic

Outside in the snow, Lynde shivered. She wondered why they had to be outside in the Spine at night in late autumn for this lesson. She would rather have been back in the guest house, but she didn't think defying Rose was wise. They stopped where the snow was particularly shallow and Rose said, "This will do nicely."

Lynde had to ask, "How will this help us forge a sword?" Rose had brought Lynde and Arlen out here after she finished shifting her features back into what they were familiar with. She had told them that they were going to forge a sword for her, but she didn't know how they were going to do that. It was only natural to ask that.

"You'll see in a moment." She looked up to a nearby cliff where Artsanna was perched, and seemed to call her over. She begrudgingly did so, gliding down. Rose pointed to a spot in the snow. "Artsanna, clear this patch of snow."

Artsanna scoffed. _I_ _am a Dragon, not your servant._ After a moment, and a glare from Rose, Artsanna reconsidered. _Very well._ She brushed the spot off with her tail, and now they could see the grass that had been under it. _Is that alright with you?_

"It'll do," Rose replied.

Lynde then asked Artsanna something through their bond. _Are you afraid of Rose?_

Artsanna was insulted, though that was because it was true. _I am afraid of her, though eventually I won't have to be. I'll be bigger and stronger than she ever could be!_

 _I don't think anybody could be tougher than her—even a Dragon._

 _That Shade was._ Lynde sent one questioning thought through their bond and Artsanna immediately reconsidered. _Alright, bad example. But I'll still become stronger than her._

Lynde almost sighed. _Whatever you say._

Rose sat down cross-legged on one side of the open patch, and gestured for Lynde to sit as well. As she did, she could feel the cold snow through her skirt. She hoped her clothes wouldn't be soaked from this.

Rose looked at Arlen and then back at Lynde. "The Elves don't want to 'harm' the land, so they thought of a different way to collect the metal from the ground using magic. Do you remember how to project your consciousness?" Lynde nodded. "Good. Now let's begin."

Before they began though, Rose cast wards on all of them to protect them. Not all of the words Lynde knew, but from what she could tell, they were to protect from heat, molten metal, and a few other things that she didn't know. What were they going to do?

Rose walked her through every step of the process. She searched for the metal underground—specifically iron, since Rose told her to—and once she did, she spoke spells that liquefied it, and began drawing it up from the ground. While it used up a lot of energy to do, Rose and Artsanna were lending her strength to do it. Once she was done, she drew it up out of the patch of grass Artsanna had cleared off, and made it float above the ground.

She'd found a lot of iron, or at least she thought it was a lot. It glowed orange, and steam began to rise from the surrounding snow as it disappeared. From what she could tell, it was very hot, but she didn't feel it. Rose's wards must have kept them from being affecting by the heat in any way.

"Arlen, you're a swordsman," Rose said, never taking her eyes off the metal. "What sort of sword should she have?" Arlen was about to say something when Rose cut him off. "Forget it. Just let me see it in your mind."

After a moment, Rose looked surprised. "Your defenses are more than I expected, Arlen. You learned that from Lynde didn't you? Strangely enough, you do it better than her."

Lynde was insulted. "Hey!"

Rose seemed to ignore her. "Though do you mind letting me see just the sword? I don't want to spend more time than I have to doing this."

"Alright," Arlen said.

After a moment's silence, Rose said, "Good." Then she shared the sword with Lynde. It was a sword with a handle long enough to fit both hands on it, but only just, and a blade not as long as Arlen's. "Now let's shape it, but first…"

Rose took something out of a pocket. It was wrapped in shiny cloth a shade of blue deeper than anything she'd seen before. As Rose unwrapped it, Lynde could see what it was. It was like white glass in the way she could see through it, and it was about the size of the pommel on Arlen's sword. It took her a moment to realize that it was glass, but a precious jewel.

"This is not a diamond but something someone tried to pass off as one, but it will still work for our purposes," Rose explained. "Magicians use jewels to store energy, and to hold spells on some things. I would have gotten a different one, but Rider's always had gems in their swords the same color as their dragon's scales, and this is the one closest I could find to Artsanna's silvery scales."

"How did you get it?"

"That's a story for another time. For now, I think we should finish the sword." Rose spoke a few words, and floated the gemstone up to the metal. Then they began shaping it.

First came the shape of the sword, then the shape of the iron. Rose taught her how to shape the iron itself to be more durable and flexible. In the process, they removed the impurities of the metal, turning it from iron to steel. When Rose said they were done, they released the spells holding the sword, and let it fall gracefully down to the grass.

With that, Rose collapsed. Lynde rushed to her side. "Rose!"

She looked up dazedly. "I'm alright. I'm only tired. Forging a sword is no easy task." Rose looked to Artsanna. "You shouldn't fly for a while."

Artsanna didn't look very good either, and through their bond Lynde could feel her exhaustion. While not as much as Rose's, she could feel Artsanna's head spinning a little. _If I need to I will. Just don't make me need to._

"It's a deal," Lynde said. She turned to the sword.

The sword had turned out very well, she thought. The gem was set firmly in the cross-guard, and the blade itself had turned out perfectly. Lynde went to pick it up when Rose said, "Wait." Lynde looked back. Rose had propped herself up against Artsanna's leg, who didn't seem to like it but would tolerate it for now. She took out a long strip of leather from her pocket. "You'll want this."

Lynde assumed it was for wrapping the handle of the sword with, and did so. When she picked it up, it was very heavy. She could barely lift it, and she had spent the last few months gaining strength. Why was it so heavy? But she wrapped the leather around the handle despite that. Now the sword was complete.

All it needed was a name. "What should I call it?" Lynde asked around.

Rose spoke first, though tiredly. "Riders named their swords shortly after forging, and would sometimes rename it if they wanted to."

"But that doesn't make sense," Arlen said, almost correcting her. "Swords are named for the deeds they do in battle."

Rose sighed. "Exactly. And so yours should be named that way as well."

Artsanna seemed excited. _Perhaps it will be called Shadeslayer once we kill Raud!_

Lynde didn't think so. _I doubt we'll be the ones to kill him. Rose has that arrow, remember?_

 _Yes, but if that doesn't work, we'll have to do it anyway! We might as well start getting used to being called Shadeslayer. Yes, Artsanna Shadeslayer. That sounds nice._

 _Well I can't stop you from dreaming I guess._ Lynde turned to Arlen. "I guess I should test this against your blade, shouldn't I?"

Arlen drew his sword. "Why not?"

As she raised her sword to defend, she said, "I warn you. This sword's pretty heavy."

"I made it that way so that it would stand up to a Shade's or an Elf's attacks," Rose said. "It's denser, so it can't be broken as easily."

"Or I can just collapse," Lynde said jokingly. "It won't get broken that way either."

Rose sighed. "Some time tomorrow, I'm going to have to apply some spells to that sword. Some spells that will really make it worthy of being a Rider's."

"Well for now, how about we spar?" Arlen suggested.

Lynde and Arlen readied to battle when a horn blew in the distance. It was loud and deep, and Rose paled slightly at the sound. "What is it?" Lynde asked.

"That is an Urgal war horn," Rose said. "I've heard it too many times. It means that Urgals are about to attack."


	19. Darkness Wins a Round

Arlen and Lynde ran out to the pass where they'd entered the valley outside the Urgal village. They climbed up the side rather than go right where the army would be. From there they had a good view of the valley and outside of it. They'd come to get a good look at the Urgal army that was coming.

Arlen wondered why Urgals were fighting each other. He'd heard since the end of the last war that Urgals weren't going to fight wars between themselves or others. Then again, the attack on his village was proof that no one should put that much stock in words like that. He wondered if it was Tribe Buduk—the same tribe that attacked Cathalorn—but he doubted that.

As they came into view, he could see how many of them were really there. He hadn't really gotten to see the full force of the Urgals when they attacked Cathalorn, but they'd come up to at least fifty corpses if he could remember correctly. This was more than fifty. He could only guess that these Urgals had to number at least a hundred and fifty, if not more. Among the hoard were several Kull, as was to be expected with an Urgal army. How were they going to fight them?

Then he remembered that they were attacking another Urgal tribe. The best people to fight Urgals were other Urgals of course. Of course, he remembered what happened to the Urgal Rose fought, and wondered if Elves were better suited to fighting Urgals.

Soon enough, Vorashz's tribe—tribe Ugnok—came out of the cave and went to meet them at the pass. Whatever their numbers, there were a lot more of them than the other group. That certainly made sense, since they were defending. Each tribe's army stood on either side of the pass.

A Kull from each side ran out to the middle of the pass. He assumed the one from Ugnok's side was Nar Votreg, and the one from the other side was their leader. He wondered what they were going to say.

Lynde spoke a series of words he didn't recognize—probably in the ancient language. "What's that for?" Arlen asked.

She finished her spell and said, "Eavesdropping." He looked surprised at her. "Oh come on, you want to know what they're saying too." He didn't argue. "Alright then."

The voices of the two Urgal leaders came clearly from the pass. "Nar Alkak," Nar Votreg's said. "What is tribe Buduk doing here?" So it was Buduk!

"Nar Votreg, you are the leader of a weak tribe," the other Urgal—probably Nar Alkak—said.

Nar Votreg snorted at Alkak—a challenge, if he remembered correctly. "Nar Alkak, you bring your army here, and you insult me. Do you want a battle?"

"Yes! You are weak, so you must be destroyed!" Nar Alkak said.

Votreg snarled. "I await the chance to bash your skull in during this bout." The two Kull turned their backs to each other and went back to their armies as Lynde removed the eavesdropping spell.

Then they charged. When the armies met each other, the carnage was such that they had to turn away. Arlen and Lynde turned to each other. Lynde said, "We have to stop them!"

"We can't!" Arlen said. "As much as I'd like to stop this, we can't."

He saw something in Lynde's eyes that made him realize that she thought of something. "Artsanna can stop them."

"But these Urgals are loyal to the Empire," Arlen countered. "They might try to capture you."

There was a determination in Lynde's green eyes that was like fire. "That's just a risk we'll have to take."

Lynde got up and started running back to where they left Artsanna and Rose. He managed to grab her arm before she went too far. "Lynde, they're Urgals. You don't need to throw your life away for them."

Lynde stared at him. "If I can help someone, I will. And there are so many that could be killed if I don't do anything. They deserve my help, even if they are Urgals; even if they are tribe Buduk. So let me do this."

He stared back at her. "You need to think for a moment. There's a way to do this that doesn't end with you dead or captured."

"How?" Lynde asked suspiciously. Arlen grinned. As he was about to explain his idea, Lynde's eyes grew wide. "Rose and Artsanna are in trouble!"

Lynde led Arlen back down the side of the pass, and ran back to where they left Rose and Artsanna. When they got back to them, they stopped in shock. Raud. Rose had her longbow pointed at Raud as she leaned against Artsanna for support.

Raud laughed. "You don't think an arrow can stop me," he said. She fired it, and Raud deflected it off to the side with his sword. As the wooden arrow hit the ground, it snapped in half. "Apparently you did."

Lynde groaned as she raised her sword. Raud turned to face her. "Ah, the girl and the swordsman. Now that you're all here, I have a question to ask: who is the Rider?"

Arlen was surprised. Raud wanted to know who Artsanna's Rider was. Since he was the one who stole the egg, it was odd that he didn't know who he gave it to.

Raud wasn't as surprised though. "I give you a single chance, weaklings," he said. "I know this woman isn't the Rider, so if the real Rider doesn't come forth, I'll kill her."

"Don't worry about me," Rose said to both of them. "I'll be alright."

Raud laughed again and pointed the tip of his sword at her. "Who do you think you are?"

"I am called Rose Redcloak," she said defiantly. "But my real name is Lilyon the Wanderer, Sixth Daughter of the Bow, and last of the Red Sisters." What did all of that mean? "You will respect me."

"So you're old," Raud said flatly. "I'm older. You were the Sixth; I'm older than the First. You're a Red Sister; I was around long before they were born. I have been a Shade for six hundred years, and in that time I've only gotten better at killing."

She drew an arrow out of her quiver that looked metallic. But before she could fire it, Raud charged and bashed it away with his sword. He then grabbed the arrow out of her hand, throwing it to the side, and drew her up by the collar. He then threw her to the side as well.

Artsanna slashed her claws at him, but in response Raud spoke a spell and she was immediately on her back writhing. Lynde then grasped her gut and fell to the ground shouting, "Artsanna!"

Raud looked back at them, smiling. "So you're the Rider." He started walking towards them. Arlen jumped at him, ready to defend Lynde. Raud swung his sword, and as Arlen blocked, he was knocked off his feet and slammed into the ground. He watched from the ground as Raud marched over to Lynde.

"Disappointing," Raud said. "You can't even stand a little shared pain. Well, it won't matter. It'll…" Raud stopped and looked up. "Well, that's unfortunate."

Arlen looked up. He didn't see anything, but he heard something. A flapping sound—like a bird, but deeper. Suddenly, both Artsanna and Lynde stopped writhing. Raud, without looking away, said, "Whether you trust me or not, I suggest Artsanna get into the cave."

Rose replied angrily, "Why should we do that?!"

"Because the Riders are here."

Arlen looked to Rose. She had her eyes shut. After a moment, she said, "Artsanna, run." Before Artsanna or Lynde objected, Rose said again, "Artsanna get into the cave. We can handle Raud."

Raud laughed yet again. "What makes you think you can defeat me?"

Arlen took his opportunity to attack. Raud parried immediately and kicked him in his chest. He felt something crack and pain engulfed him like fire. He suddenly found it very difficult to stay awake.


	20. Catching Up

Arlen woke up, his chest itching. As he opened his eyes, he saw a woman with dark skin—like Queen Nasuada was said to have—kneeling over him. Startled, he rolled away from her. He then got up and reached for his belt where his sword was, but he didn't find it. What was going on?

He quickly became aware of several things around him. There were several wounded Urgals being carried by other Urgals past him. Two Dragons—a large red one, and a smaller, though still larger than Artsanna, purple one—were lounging off to the side. The dark-skinned woman in front of him had a bejeweled sword sheathed in a scabbard with a red emblem on it. But most importantly, Rose, Lynde, and Artsanna weren't there.

The woman tried to calm him down. "Hold on, you're not fully healed yet," she said.

"What are you talking a…" he started to say, but he felt a pain in his chest and fell to the ground.

She rushed over to him. "You're only going to hurt yourself if you don't stay down. Now let me heal your ribs."

She put her hand over his chest, and he felt itchy again. He had to ask though, "What happened?"

She answered plainly. "There was a Shade here. He manipulated an Urgal tribe to attack another, and attacked you and a couple of women. He cracked most of your ribcage, except two that he broke. You should be fine though—I've been told I'm a master healer."

She didn't mention Artsanna. Either she wanted to keep the Dragon a secret or she didn't know about her. Though he did wonder where Lynde and Rose were. He tried to ask it without giving away too much. "Where are the women who the Shade attacked? And where's the Shade?"

"The Shade ran off before we could get to him." So he was a coward. "Alaric's taking the women to a safe place."

He tried sitting up, but she pushed him back down. Alaric had been here? And what did she mean by "a safe place". He would ask. "Safe?"

"Well…" She hesitated. "I don't like to give my patients news like this, but… They're magicians, so he's going to Gil'ead to get a ruling on them. They'll either join the Queen's Magicians or get on their watch list." She drew away saying, "All done. You should be good as new."

"Thanks." He got up and stared at her. "Who are you?"

She put her hand forward. "I am Karasi, Dragon Rider," she explained, "formally of the Wander Tribes."

"I'm Arlen," he replied, shaking her hand, and intentionally not including the name of his home town for reasons he couldn't explain. Then a question came to mind. "Why were you here?"

Karasi answered without hesitation. "We were brought in because of the Urgals. We heard one tribe was going to go to war with another, so we went in to stop them. Rider justice at work. Of course we never thought that a Shade would be behind it, or that we'd find magicians."

"Karasi," said deep voice with an Urgal accent behind them. Arlen turned around to see an Urgal with a sword similar to Karasi's sheathed, only the emblem was purple. "Have you found out if he's a magician yet?"

"I'm not," Arlen said. "You can use whatever detection spells on me you want—I'm not one of them, even if the ones you took are my friends."

The Urgal stepped forward, ready to draw his sword. "You were harboring magicians?"

"Stand down, Valvesz," Karasi said. "We're not the Queen's lapdogs; we're Riders. If we followed the letter of the law, we'd make more problems than we'd solve. Besides, we can't do anything about it now. We'd probably get caught in the storm."

He turned back to Karasi. "What storm?"

She answered simply. "There's a snowstorm on the way. When Alaric left, he had a chance to beat it riding Magnora. But riding our Dragons, even with a day's head start, we'd still get caught in the middle of it. Magnora's a lot faster than our Dragons." Suddenly she had a look in her eyes like the look Lynde got when she talked to Artsanna.

Arlen looked at both of them and said, "Do you know what happens to magicians that refuse to either be watched or recruited?" Karasi and Valvesz looked at him, interested. "I've seen it happen. The healer of my village turned out to be a magician, but when the Queen's Magicians came, she refused to be watched or to join them. Do you know what happened?"

Karasi had an answer, though she was obviously unsure of it. "They watched her anyway?"

Arlen shook his head. "They took her away. They took the only person who knew how to heal people away, and that year so many died because we didn't have anyone to treat us when we were sick or wounded. Children died because of the Queen's Magicians. Now does that sound like justice to you?"

There was a long pause before either of the Riders spoke. "Human," Valvesz said. "What is your name?"

"Arlen."

"Arlen, for now I have arranged for you to stay with tribe Ugnok," Valvesz said. "You should get some rest for now."

"Thank you," Arlen said, cautiously. "I will." And he started back to the village.

As he was leaving, he looked back, and the Riders were talking amongst themselves. He wondered if they were talking about the Queen's Magicians and Lynde's mother. In fact, he hoped it. If the Riders could stop what the Queen was doing to magicians, then perhaps a bit of good could come out of it. At the very least they would think about it. Of course, it could have nothing to do with them. In any case Arlen just kept walking back to the Urgal village.

Once he got back to the guest house, Artsanna's "voice" entered his mind. _Arlen! You're not hurt!_

He didn't know how Lynde spoke to Artsanna without actually talking, so he just spoke out loud. "I'm not. Where are you?"

 _I'm hiding among the many caves in this mountain. I should be fine for now. But do you know where they took Lynde?_

"To Gil'ead. We can't rescue them from that place."

Artsanna's thoughts sounded like an angry growl. _We must! We must rescue Lynde!_

"I understand your anger," he said. "But you need to think this through."

 _NO! No thought! We must take action. We must go after her!_

"Alaric and Magnora are with them. How do you think we'll fight them?"

 _We don't need to fight them. We only need to take back Lynde._

"And Rose."

 _If she doesn't free herself, maybe. Whatever our plan, we need to get some things before we leave._

Lynde's sword came to mind, as did the metal arrow that Rose tried to use on Raud. He wondered if Artsanna was bringing these things up in his mind because he saw no reason to get the arrow. Suddenly he did—it wasn't an ordinary arrow, and it might be able to kill Raud, or perhaps even Alaric, though he wouldn't want to try that. "Alright, we'll get them before we go," he said. "But we'll wait until the Riders fall asleep. I don't want to take any risks."

 _Agreed._

So they waited. They waited until Artsanna, from wherever she was hiding, saw the two Riders fall asleep outside. The way they slept Arlen found odd—they were each curled up with their Dragons. But they were asleep, so they could move.

Arlen snuck out to where they fought. He found the arrow Rose used, though it looked different than he remembered. He also found his sword, which he was glad to have back. Though he couldn't find Lynde's sword—just another sword that may have been Raud's, though he didn't remember it looking like that.

 _It is an illusion,_ Artsanna told him. Rose cast a spell with the last of her energy to hide it and the arrow. He turned to the sword that he thought might've been Raud's. He felt around the cross-guard, and while he couldn't see the diamond, he could feel it. As he picked it up, he felt that it was very heavy. It was Lynde's sword alright.

He carried the sword and the arrow to a place that Artsanna had told him to. She crawled out of a nearby cave. There was something about her that made him think she was tired. It might've been her movements or her eyes, but she was tired. _Get in the saddle. I'll fly us out of here._

"No," he whispered as he put Lynde's sword and the arrow awkwardly in one of Artsanna's saddlebags. "You remember what Vorashz said. If you try, you could alert everyone and even get yourself killed."

 _Then we should run—silently._

"Can you do that?"

 _You just watch me. But get in the saddle so we can run!_

Arlen mounted up. It was strange sitting up there. He'd had many a conversation with Artsanna, and now he was riding her like she was a horse. He tried not to think about it too much as she silently tread out of there.

He was impressed about how quiet Artsanna could be. He could barely hear her breathing, and her footsteps, while slow, were especially quiet. They made it out of the valley without anyone noticing them.

* * *

After leaving the Spine, Arlen and Artsanna were hit with a massive snowstorm. The wind kept them from flying, the snow kept them from seeing very far in front of them, and all Arlen could do against the cold was shiver. So this was why the Riders didn't want to fly.

He had been warned about it, and he'd ignored that warning. He'd been a fool to do this now. He should have stopped Artsanna, but… Why didn't he listen?

He stopped. "We should turn back," he said.

 _We_ _could not even if we tried_ , Artsanna replied as she stopped alongside him. _I lost my way long ago._

"Then… we're lost."

 _Yes._

There was a mutual silence for a while. "We're going to die here," he admitted to himself.

 _You might… but I…_ Artsanna suddenly collapsed.

"Artsanna!" He knelt next to her head. "Are you alright?"

 _No… I'm… cold. Why I am I so cold?_ She was freezing to death. He didn't think dragons could freeze to do, breathing fire and all that. But then again, she couldn't breathe fire.

They were going to die there, and there was nothing they could do about it.

Suddenly, there was a thud behind him. He saw the red silhouette of a Dragon through the snow. It had to be one of the Riders coming after them—or at least him if they didn't know about Artsanna.

He drew his sword just in case they were hostile, and prepared himself to defend Artsanna. While he knew he could do little to fight a Rider, he'd at least make the effort.

The Rider came down and walked towards followed by the Dragon. While it may have been his imagination, the Dragon seemed bigger than before. Once the Rider was within sight of Arlen, he could see that the Rider was probably a man, and that he had a hood over his head. He drew his sword—a one handed, blood-red sword—and pointed it at Arlen. "Who are you?" the Rider asked.

"Arlen," he replied. "Who are you?"

"So you don't know, Rider?" the man said. "Eragon didn't send you to kill me or anything?" Before Arlen could reply, the man continued. "Of course he didn't; I'd think something was wrong if he did. But the question still stands: who am I?" He reached for his hood with one hand, pulling it down while he kept his sword pointed at Arlen. He had pointed ears like an elf, but he didn't look like one otherwise. "I am Murtagh."


	21. The Traitor

Arlen readied to attack. Murtagh, the traitor Rider from the last war, who had gone missing after the battle of Urû'baen, was pointing a sword at him. The wind howled and the snow beat against them. While everything was against him, he couldn't lose this fight.

Artsanna was freezing to death. Frost covered her scales as she shivered uncontrollably. While Lynde probably didn't even know he was still alive, he couldn't let Artsanna die on his watch. He especially didn't want her dying to Murtagh.

"Lower your sword," Murtagh said.

"You first," Arlen replied, shivering.

Murtagh laughed slightly. "No."

Arlen, in a moment of panic, attacked. He thrusted his sword at Murtagh, and he parried with so much strength channeled through his blood-red sword that he knocked Arlen's sword out of his hand. He went for his sword when Murtagh put his foot over it. He lost.

Arlen stood up, stepping back as he did so. "So what now?" he asked. "Are you going to kill me?"

Murtagh shook his head. "If I wanted one of Eragon's Riders dead then I'd have to be mad, and I'm not mad yet." After a pause, he looked back at his Dragon—who Arlen realized must have been Thorn—and said, "I am not!"

"Well, I'm not one of Eragon's Riders," Arlen said. Murtagh looked back Arlen, surprised. "I'm not a Rider at all."

Murtagh raised his sword. "Then who are you and what are you doing with a Dragon?"

"Let me start from the beginning—or at least as far back as I know it." Murtagh didn't object so he took that as permission to speak. He told him everything from the theft of the egg by Raud to the near present where Lynde and Rose were captured. That's when Murtagh lowered his sword and suddenly started laughing uncontrollably. "What's so funny?"

In a pause in his laughter, Murtagh said, "Everything! You, your friend the Rider, Artsanna; it seems that history is repeating itself. Ten or eleven years ago, I was in this exact same position. And let me guess: the place where you're going rescue…" he started laughing again, "a Rider and an Elf in Gil'ead."

He was surprised. "Yes, that's exactly where I'm going," Arlen said. Murtagh started laughing again. As Artsanna made a weak moan, Arlen had to interrupt him. "Excuse me, but Artsanna is going to die if we don't do something!"

"I'm sorry," Murtagh said, controlling himself. He turned to Thorn, and the Dragon—definitely the biggest he'd ever seen, and the biggest in the world, which was too big to fit in Roran Stronghammer's hall in Carvahall—lumbered over and laid beside Artsanna. He cast one wing over her, for warmth he imagined. Artsanna, who at first objected to this, was too weak to argue, and nestled in closer. With that Murtagh asked, "How old is Artsanna?"

"I think three or four months," Arlen said. "Why?"

"Simple curiosity. Also, have you got any firewood?" Arlen shook his head. "Well fortunately Thorn's carrying some."

As Murtagh climbed a rope ladder up to Thorn's saddle, Arlen wondered something. Where did Murtagh get his saddle? While Rose had built the one for Artsanna, this was simply massive. The ropes stretching from Thorn's back to his belly were several yards long, and at least twice that to stretch back around. And the ropes weren't even the start of the confusion—the leather, the amount of saddlebags. The sheer enormity of Thorn's saddle was hard for Arlen to comprehend. And it may have been his imagination, but there seemed to be a tent on Thorn's back.

While Murtagh was doing up there, Arlen took the opportunity to grab his sword. He didn't trust Murtagh, and while he would probably lose in a fight, he'd rather be able to put up one if it came to that. Besides, no one was infallible in battle—he might leave an opening to exploit, or his skill had decayed during his exile. In any case, he wanted his sword back.

After he searched through a few saddlebags, Murtagh came back down with a bundle of firewood under his arm. Thorn then raised the wing that wasn't over Artsanna, and Murtagh led Arlen under it. Here they were protected from the storm, and so Murtagh began to build a fire.

Arlen then realized what he was doing, and said, "Wait, why should I trust you?"

Murtagh had an exasperated look on his face as he said, "Is there any reason not to?"

"You're a traitor. You betrayed both sides during the war."

"Anyone would have broken under the kind of torture I was under—both times." As Murtagh lit the fire with a spell, he said, "I decided I was done with sides long ago, Arlen. I don't fight for anyone now, except myself and Thorn."

"Then why help me?"

Murtagh was quiet for a little before explaining, "Let's just say I feel nostalgic. You are on the exact same quest that I was on eleven years ago. Or if you want, it's part of my atonement for my crimes. Either way, I'm sheltering a fellow traveler, and since Thorn's here, I don't think anyone's going to try and stop me."

Arlen thought he understood, but he would still keep an eye on Murtagh. If he turned out to be as treacherous as he was in the legends, then he'd want to be ready for whatever he might do.

* * *

Once the storm was over—which took days where he and Murtagh actually got to know each other—they climbed out from under Thorn's wing to see what had become of the world. The world was completely blanketed in cold, white snow. When Arlen stepped in the snow, his boot sunk at least a foot before the snow finally became compacted enough to hold him up. That storm had really done something to the place.

He wondered if this storm had reached Cathalorn. If it had, then a lot of his neighbors would be snowed in. Arne would definitely be complaining about not being able to send messengers out to Gil'ead or Ceunon to report on the village. Brynner would do his best to unite the village to dig themselves out of the snow. And his father… no, Ehren—Ehren was the captain of the guard now—would try to do his best to watch for enemies that didn't exist, and make sure his guards did the same. He hoped that they'd be alright.

Arlen looked back to Thorn and Artsanna. Thorn didn't have a bit of frost on him, which was surprising after being in that kind of snowstorm. He was covered with snow though, which actually seemed to be melting off of him. "I didn't know a Dragon's fire could leak through its skin," Arlen observed.

"Something we learned during nine or ten winters in the wilderness," Murtagh said. "What's more surprising is that Artsanna was freezing to death. I didn't know a Dragon could."

"Well, she can't breathe fire yet, so that might have something to do with it," Arlen speculated.

 _I can hear you, even over this giant's breathing,_ Artsanna said indignantly.

"Oh, sorry Artsanna," Arlen replied.

Murtagh looked at Arlen strangely. "Artsanna's talking to you?"

"Yes. And she's not to you?" Murtagh shook his head.

 _I don't want to be in his mind,_ Artsanna explained. _He doesn't feel right._ He would have to ask her what she meant by that later.

Arlen went over to where Artsanna was under Thorn's wing. Thorn lifted it, and Artsanna stood up, shaking bits of snow off her scales and saddle. "Are you alright?" he asked.

 _Hungry, but not as cold as…_ Suddenly, Artsanna breathed in sharply, and spewed out a bunch of smoke. She then ambled over to Arlen. _Okay, maybe not as good as I thought._

"Was that a sneeze?" Arlen asked.

 _I think so._

"Huh. I didn't know Dragons sneezed."

 _Neither did I._

"Well if Artsanna's not fit to travel," Murtagh said, causing Arlen to turn around to face him, "you might want to stay with us for a while."

Arlen turned back to Artsanna. _I feel like I would not go very far without a good meal. And maybe a few days of rest would help too._

Arlen turned to Murtagh. He sighed regretfully and said, "I guess we'll have to."

Murtagh seemed neither happy nor like he was inconvenienced by this. "Well, if you're going to stay with us, I might as well teach you something."

Arlen was curious. "What?"

"With having to fight a Shade, and possibly Elves and Riders, you're going to need to be able to fight an opponent that not only moves faster and is stronger, but also think and react faster." Murtagh drew his sword. "I can teach you exactly how to fight them; how to fight someone who would kill you within seconds otherwise. Do you want me to teach you how?"

He nodded. "Yes. But why do you want to?"

Murtagh balanced his sword on his shoulder. "You don't need to know. Think of it as my good deed for the decade." He would ask again later, but for now he wouldn't question him—that probably wouldn't lead to anything except an angry Rider. "Now let's begin."


	22. Dras-Blöthr

Lynde walked into the greenish room, Rose behind her. There was ruined stonework covered with tree branches and moss. Trees were everywhere, creating an effective cage. So this was the kind of prison Elves made.

After refusing to join the Queen's Magicians, or be watched—both because of Artsanna—Lynde was sent here, to Dras-Blöthr. Dras-Blöthr, she had been told by Rose, shouldn't exist. They had passed into Elven territory when they were being brought here, and according to Rose the Elves didn't have prisons. In fact, Rose admitted that she didn't even know the word for prison in the Ancient Language, and Lynde wondered if even the Elves knew since they didn't have prisons. She wondered if there was any reason why this place would be kept secret.

Oddly enough, Rose had not been sent to Dras-Blöthr because she refused both options. She had been sent there because of several crimes, including killing one of the Queen's Magicians—she assumed Breyson—and theft oddly enough. She would be given the choice to join or be watched in thirty years, though the Magicians probably didn't think she'd last that long.

As she, Rose, and a man they'd gotten to know on the journey as Andor walked into a large open room, they were stopped by a guard. He was an Elf—his pointed ears and silver hair attested to that—with heavy armor, a sword at his belt, and a silver necklace with an intricately designed pendant. The necklace seemed to be part of all the guards' garb, though the pendant was unique to this one—maybe it signified him as some sort of chief guard. This Elf wanted something.

Unlike Rose, this Elf spoke with a strange accent. It almost sounded like he was singing, which almost made Lynde want to laugh. "I am chief guard Vraeldr. This is Dras-Blöthr. Escape, while possible, would be unwise. Between you and the Empire is Elven territory that you cannot pass, no matter what you try.

"This prison has been specially made for magicians. Within Dras-Blöthr, you cannot weave spells of any kind. If you try, you will immediately fail.

"The other rules are just simple: Do not attack the guards or your fellow prisoners. Do not attempt to escape. Guards will inform you when meals are served, and if you do not go when they tell you to, then you will be barred from the meal." Vraeldr continued to outline several more rules, and when was he was done he said, "If you follow these rules, then I promise that your stay here will not be too unpleasant."

Vraeldr sidestepped out of the way, letting them by. With that, they walked into a large courtyard of sorts. There were several prisoners, probably all magicians, wandering about, doing various things. Something Lynde noticed was that a lot of them were somewhat muscular, though she didn't make anything of that. One woman with dark hair and blue eyes stepped out of the crowd. "Welcome to Dras-Blöthr, my fellow prisoners," she said almost mockingly.

"And who are you?" Rose asked hostilely.

"I am Trianna," the woman said.

Lynde was surprised. "I've heard of you," Lynde said. "You were the leader of the Du Vrangr Gata in the war, weren't you?"

Trianna grinned. "Yes, I was. And I'm going to get us out of here, so you'd better do what I say."

Rose—doing something Lynde didn't think she'd seen her do before—laughed. "You really think I'm going to follow someone like you?"

Trianna frowned angrily. "You had better watch your tone, or else I'll make sure you pay for that." Rose shook her head dismissively, and walked away. "Don't you turn your back on me!"

Without turning around, Rose stopped and said, "Why shouldn't I?"

Trianna made a motion to another prisoner, and he charged her. When he got to Rose, she turned around, flipped him over her head and slammed him into the ground. She then said, "Let me make one thing clear to you: I am my own master. I give no one who doesn't deserve it my respect, so you had better earn it before I even consider talking to you again."

As Rose walked away, Andor started talking to Trianna. She wasn't completely sure she could trust Andor—he talked a lot on the trip over, yet she didn't know much about him. She decided to go after Rose.

It was hard to catch up to Rose in full stride. Lynde had to run to match her speed. Then Rose stopped and looked at her. "Oh, I didn't see you, Lynde," Rose said.

"Where are you going?" Lynde asked, a little out of breath.

"I don't know." Rose looked around and so did Lynde. It almost looked like they were in the ruins of an ancient city with plants growing all throughout it, and a large wall around the whole thing. The stonework was something Lynde hadn't seen before—huge blocks like they were meant to be there, though weathered over time. Buildings were all around them, though they looked like houses or shops. Rose looked uncertain, which scared Lynde since she was usually so decisive.

"It was an Elven city, you know," a familiar voice said behind them. Lynde turned around to see a woman standing in the doorway of a building. Her face was mostly covered by the shade. "It burned during their war with the Dragons. This is just what's left of it."

Rose stepped in front of Lynde protectively. "Who are you, stranger?" Rose asked hostilely.

"Oh come now, Rose." The woman stepped out of the shade, showing her face. There was something in her features that Lynde found familiar. "You really forgot an old student?"

"Fayre?" Surprise was in her voice, though it was pleasant surprise. "Fayre, you're here?" There was something about that name that she also found familiar.

"Yeah," Fayre said. "What's more surprising is that you're here."

"Well, you'd be surprised how many times I've been mistaken for a Human looking like this," Rose said jokingly. Fayre walked over to them, and she seemed even more familiar. Fayre looked at her for a moment, searching her face. "Fayre, what are you doing?"

Fayre didn't answer exactly. "Where did you find this girl?"

Rose must have realized that she hadn't introduced her, and said, "This is Lynde from Cathalorn." Fayre looked shocked and stepped back. "Lynde, this is Fayre. She used to be a student of mine. I trained her long before the war."

Fayre looked at Rose and then back at Lynde. "Rose, you didn't do this intentionally, did you?"

"Do what?" Rose looked at Fayre questioningly.

"You never noticed, did you?"

"What?"

"Look at her, and then me." Rose did that, and then her eyes grew wide. "Do you see it now?"

"See what?" Lynde asked. She was frustrated with this whole mystery. Not knowing this was making her brain itch. She wanted some answers. "What's going on?"

"Lynde, look into my eyes," Fayre said. Lynde did so, looking into Fayre's green eyes. "Your mother was arrested ten years ago by the Queen's Magicians in Cathalorn. I was arrested by them ten years ago in Cathalorn."

"How do you know about…?"

"Lynde," Fayre interrupted. "I am your mother."

Lynde staggered back. Now she remembered. She… Fayre… Lynde couldn't think. Tears started streaming down her face—tears of joy. She wrapped her arms around Fayre—her mother—and squeezed tight. "It's… It's good to see you again, Mom."

Her mom hugged back. "It's good to see you too."


	23. Family Secrets

Rose was glad to see Fayre again, but even gladder to see Lynde reunited with her mother. She'd grown fond of Lynde, and as much as she hated being in this place, at least it had allowed her student some happiness. Lynde and Fayre talked for some time about a slew of things.

Rose sat on the windowsill of the main living area in Fayre's home. It wasn't the best home she'd been in, but she'd been in worse—if very briefly. There was no furniture, the guards obviously didn't provide that, and Fayre never was the type to carve. The floor was stone covered in moss, and the walls and ceiling were stone as well. Overall, not that bad; it wasn't on fire.

Lynde and Fayre eventually got onto the topic of how they each met Rose. Lynde looked as hesitant as Rose felt. They didn't know what kind of eavesdropping spells the guards had on the place, so it was too great a risk to say anything about Artsanna, though perhaps Lynde was hesitant for more personal reasons. After Lynde was silent for a moment, Rose said, "Fayre, how about you start?"

"Alright," Fayre said, taking a deep breath in. "It was many, many years ago; before you were born, Lynde. I was in the woods, listening to the birds in early spring. That was when a bear came out of its den right next to me, roaring at me. I would have been perfectly content to let it be and leave, but the bear didn't see it that way."

Rose, a little impatient with how she was telling the story, added, "He saw her as its first meal in months."

Fayre nodded. "Exactly. So obviously I needed to get out of there." She turned to Lynde. "Do you remember the words we say at the start of fishing season? 'May there be a great bounty and a swift return'."

Lynde nodded. "Yeah, and then we say words I've never understood." Her eyes widened with realization. "They're in the Ancient Language!"

Fayre smiled with pride. "Exactly. So as I was about to run, I said the part about running, thinking that if there was ever a time for me to turn out to be a magician, it was then. The spell was cast, I ran faster than the bear, and soon enough it didn't even try to catch me. But I collapsed soon after."

Rose, once again impatient, said, "I found her exhausted and unconscious. After she woke up, I talked to her about magic, and she became my apprentice."

Fayre frowned. "You know, I don't like it when you do that." Rose didn't care; Fayre just explained things too slowly for her. While Elves might be patient, she certainly wasn't like them. Fayre looked over to Lynde. "Now how did you meet the most impatient woman of the woods?"

Lynde clearly had trouble coming up with anything that wouldn't sound like an obvious lie, so Rose told the truth. "Pretty much like you, but without the bear."

Fayre smiled. "Now how do you expect me to believe that?" Her tone wasn't accusing—more like finding humor in the coincidence. "Of course, it's no less surprising to find that your own daughter is a magician. I thought magic didn't run in families, Rose."

Rose shrugged. "It doesn't. I guess it's just a coincidence." She still wasn't going to mention Artsanna to Fayre quite yet. While her reaction might be bad if they withheld it from her, she wasn't about to risk the guards finding out. Of course, the fact that the daughter of a magician became a Rider was a coincidence in itself.

Fayre looked to the two of them. "I'm guessing Cathalorn was in an uproar when you two were arrested. A vagabond and the adoptive daughter of a sewer… It was Gelsey, wasn't it?" Lynde nodded. "...get arrested for being magicians; taken away never to be seen again."

"Not if I can help it," Lynde said. "I'm going back there one day; I know it."

Fayre sighed heavily. "You really believe that, don't you?"

Lynde nodded. "They can't keep me caged in a place that burns."

"They have spells that don't allow fires to be started in here," Fayre said woefully. "They have to bring lamps from outside that don't give off heat."

Rose nodded. Long ago, the Elves discovered how to make lamps that didn't need fire. She reasoned that they used that kind of lamp here. Though that did give her hope—if the spells on those lamps kept going, perhaps other spells continued to work while in Dras-Blöthr if they were cast outside of the city. It was certainly something to note for later.

"It doesn't matter," Lynde said confidently. "I'm getting out of here."

Fayre sighed again. "In ten years I've never seen anyone get out of here. They bury you here even—we have a graveyard."

"Then I'm not going to be buried here," Lynde said defiantly and left out the front door.

Fayre was about to chase after her when Rose stopped former apprentice. She grabbed her arm tightly enough to stop her. Fayre gave her an angry look which Rose returned with ambivalence. "As much as she's your daughter, she's her own self. She can't sit by and do nothing while there's suffering—especially her own. And she gets her determination to do that from you."

Fayre sighed and noted, "I've lost it since coming here." Rose slowly let her go, and she walked over to the corner opposite her. Fayre slid down the wall and sat on the ground. "I thought I'd get out within a week, then a month. Eventually it was a year. I gave up after that. You can't escape from a place like this, Rose—with guards like that. You can't outrun them, you can't overpower them, and you can't outsmart them. They never slip up. You can't… I forgot who I was talking to there."

Rose smiled slightly. "If anyone can escape from here, I can and so can Lynde."

Fayre looked at her funnily. "I understand you, but why Lynde?"

Rose regretted not being able to talk about Artsanna, but to give Fayre a reason to believe her she said, "Because I'm with her."

Fayre smiled. It was nice to see her smile after an episode like that. "Thank you, Rose, for everything."

"It's what I'm destined for I suppose." After a moment, Rose said something that had been on her mind since she met Lynde—off and on mostly. "Fayre what are those spells cast on Lynde?"

Fayre had a look of surprise on her face that soon faded. "Of course you noticed them. I'd be more shocked if you hadn't."

Rose frowned. "Fayre, those aren't wards, and they haven't been activated either. What are they?"

Fayre had an odd smile on her face, and gestured for Rose to follow her into the basement. Here the place hadn't been damaged as much by Dragon fire, so there were a few things that were still recognizable, but not much. Fayre drew Rose's attention to a moss curtain she had over a section of wall before she drew it back. Behind the curtain were letters written in chalk. The writings were in the Ancient Language. "I know, I know," Fayre said. "Where'd I get the chalk?"

As Rose realized what Fayre had written, she was horrified. "I didn't teach you this." Still cautious about eavesdroppers, she added, "I didn't teach you to use this."

The stuff she'd written was for a spell used in sorcery. She couldn't exactly understand them, but it was still awful to see her former student had learned something like this—something she never taught and never was taught. "I learned this spell long ago," Fayre explained. "I found a book in the remains of Mad King Palancar's castle that showed exactly how to use this skill—the summoning and how to protect oneself. This is how to protect. I cast this is the spell I cast on Lynde to protect her if I ever tried to summon one."

Rose turned away from the writings to stare at Fayre. She cast a spell to protect Lynde from Spirits? At least she was responsible enough to do that much.

Her curiosity—that was rarely triggered anymore—got the better of her. "How does it protect one exactly?"

"By drawing upon the energy of the summoned," Fayre explained. "It's rather simple, though it's hard to use the same thing against normal enemies."

Rose nodded in acknowledgement. "Seems straightforward enough. Have you ever had to use it?"

Fayre shook her head. "Never. I never got up the nerve to do it."

"Well, let's hope you never do."


	24. Lessons Learned

Arlen stood in the snow, ready for Murtagh to begin teaching him. This was essential if he wanted a chance at fighting anything or anyone stronger than him, which he might have to do someday. While he was still hesitant to take lessons from a traitor like him, there was no harm in learning a new way of fighting. He wasn't entirely sure what this would be either.

Murtagh looked at Arlen and said, "To learn how to overcome a more powerful enemy is to know how you're going to do it before you even see them, know them, know you're going to fight, or even know of their existence. You must plan for every eventuality, every battle, and every exchange of blows. Know every single move you're going make before you need to fight." Arlen had no idea what all this meant, but felt like he was going to.

"Say that you're going to fight an Elf, and he comes at you with a swing at your left," Murtagh proposed. "What do you do?"

That was simple. "I block," Arlen replied.

Murtagh shook his head. "You parry or dodge. An Elf is many times stronger than you, and if you blocked with your sword, it'd be surprising if it wasn't damaged or you were knocked back. The same goes for a Shade, who is even stronger than an Elf.

"But that aside, what's your next move?" Murtagh asked. Arlen didn't know. Before he could think of it, Murtagh said, "Not fast enough. You have to have your moves planned out ahead of you long before you clash swords. Once you've parried, you move in for the kill. That's assuming they don't have wards, in which case, try to attack places like the legs, which require more energy to block, expending their wards faster.

"You will be trying to outlast your opponent when fighting warded enemies," Murtagh continued. "Do everything you can to use moves that, while effective, preserve your strength while lessening your enemy's. But as soon as they don't have wards, move in for the kill. If you don't, then they'll become desperate, and do something reckless that will either doom them or you. You must be decisive and fast in order to beat an Elf, and have no small amount of brains.

"Now, a Shade comes at you, swinging his sword down on you. What do you do?"

Arlen quickly calculated what to do. "I dodge and counterattack."

"He has wards and is angry now," Murtagh added.

"I prepare to parry, and after his attack, hit him in the head. Then I move to parry his next attack, and…"

"That's good enough," Murtagh said, grinning. "You've gotten the idea. Now let us try another scenario."

They ran through imaginary duels for most of the day. Even while eating lunch, Arlen was bombarded with imaginary attacks from a Dwarf. By sunset, he was confident that he'd fought at least an army's worth of enemies. Finally, Murtagh told him that was enough, and let him stop for the night.

Arlen visited Artsanna, who was getting much better. She was lying on a patch of ground that Thorn had hit with his fire. The snow had melted away with the water disappearing and the grass burnt. Just sitting near the patch, he could tell it was still warm. He was glad to see Thorn was taking care of her, though was still wary of the two's strange hospitality.

Artsanna woke up from a nap to talk with Arlen. _Arlen, I had the strangest dream, she said with her mind. It was of a city covered in green, guarded by armored Elves, and the place itself stopped people from using magic._

"Well isn't that odd?" Arlen replied. "I didn't think Elves wore armor."

Artsanna, in a very Human-like manor, raised her shoulders in a shrug. _Don't ask me. I only know one Elf, and that would be Rose._

"Yeah, and I don't think she's the best example," Arlen noted.

Artsanna's head suddenly jerk towards Arlen. Do you think this is where Lynde is?

Arlen shrugged. "Don't you know with your link to her?"

Artsanna shook her head as she drew back. _No; it doesn't work this far from Lynde. At least, I didn't think so._

"Well, let's account this to you having an empty stomach and move on," Arlen decided and Artsanna agreed. "How are you?"

 _I'm better, though very, very hungry._

"Do you feel good enough to hunt?" Arlen asked.

Artsanna paused for a moment before saying, _I don't think so. Too weak._

He nodded. "I'll see if Murtagh has a bow I can use."

As he was walking over to Murtagh who was getting something from Thorn's saddlebags, the red Dragon raised his head to the sky. Murtagh jumped from the Dragon, landing in the snow, and ran to Arlen and Artsanna. He shouted one word that made Arlen panic. "Rider!"

Arlen didn't how to react. His mind was so exhausted from those potential battles that he couldn't think of how to react. When Murtagh came close, Arlen asked, "What do we do?"

Murtagh pointed to Thorn. "You two hide under Thorn's wing," he said. "I'll handle the Rider." After a moment, he said in a tone like someone had corrected him, "Riders." Arlen and Artsanna ran over to Thorn where he covered them with one massive wing.

Murtagh then spoke a spell, and explained that it was to help hide them. Looking at his hand, he could barely see an outline of it. He was scared for a moment, but got over it quickly. It was actually a nice trick, and it affected Artsanna as well. Of course, the Riders would probably see them if they really tried.

Arlen watched from a small crack between Thorn's wing and the ground the Dragons landing one at a time. First was a massive red-gold Dragon, then a smaller red one, and finally a purple one smaller than either of them. From the fact that the red-gold one was bigger than both of the other Dragons if they were one, though not as large as Thorn, he guessed that this was Magnora the Dragon Giantess. The Dragons blew up so much snow from landing that it most definitely covered their tracks, which Arlen had worried about.

Murtagh went out there, sword drawn. For a moment he thought he was going to fight them, but it was probably just a show of force. The Riders dismounted, and met with Murtagh.

He could see that they were probably the same two Riders—Karasi and Valvesz—as before. While there could have been more than one Urgal Rider, he hadn't seen very many people with skin as dark as Karasi's. Add Alaric who was undoubtedly with Magnora, and Arlen doubted that Murtagh could beat the three of them.

Arlen couldn't exactly make out what Alaric looked like. His face looked a little red though, which he didn't really understand. How could he get sunburned in winter? It didn't matter what he looked like though; what mattered was what he would do.

Arlen could faintly hear what they were saying. Murtagh said, "What do you want from me?"

The one in the center, who was probably Alaric, said, "Murtagh, son of Morzan, Rider of Thorn, traitor to the Varden and the Empire, and self-exile. What are you doing back in Alagaësia?"

Murtagh laughed. "What am I doing here? Nothing of importance. I was forced here by the storm."

Karasi stepped forward. "You could have gotten out of the way."

Alaric put a hand to Karasi, silencing her. Murtagh probably smiled and said, "You don't get out of the way of a storm like that. You go where it blows you." After glancing around he asked, "What are three Riders doing all the way out here?"

"Is it really your business to know?" Valvesz challenged.

Murtagh turned to the Urgal. "I've heard rumors, horn-head, about a stolen Dragon egg." He turned to Karasi. "Another about a Shade wandering about Alagaësia. Of course, that one's a little sketchy since some say it's a man and others say it's a woman." He looked straight at Alaric. "Of course, if the two were connected that'd be quite something. Perhaps even the Shade is the Rider."

Alaric stepped back defensively. After a moment's consideration, Arlen realized a Shade becoming a Rider was a scary thought. A Rider and a Shade's power mingling, along with the Shade's malice would create something Arlen chose not to think about. He didn't know about how Riders were chosen, but he doubted—he hoped—that a Shade could not become a Rider.

Murtagh laughed. "Is it true what they say about the egg being blue as if it was Sapphira's spawn?" he asked.

Alaric shook his head. "We don't have time for this." He turned to his fellow Riders. "Mount up."

"Gooday," Murtagh said almost mockingly. Alaric and the Riders went back to their Dragons and flew away. After a little bit, Murtagh looked back to Arlen and Artsanna. The spell around them released, and Arlen could see himself again. Murtagh said as Thorn lifted his wing, "If those are the kind of Rider's Eragon's training, then he needs to train a sense of humor into them."

Arlen walked over to Murtagh, looking at him in confusion and some awe. He stood up to Riders like they were nothing. Was he that strong or just mad—or perhaps both? "Why didn't you turn us over?" Arlen asked.

Murtagh shrugged. "Perhaps I've learned how not to betray people," he said humorously. "Or I'm training you to be my minion—one or the other."

Arlen shook his head. He was madder than a wild dog. "Well, whatever your reason, thank you." Murtagh started walking over to Thorn as Arlen remembered something. "Do you have a bow I could borrow?"


	25. To Gil'ead

After several weeks of training, as well as dodging the winter storms and Riders, Arlen's training was completed and Artsanna made a full recovery. While Artsanna's recovery was rather easy, Arlen's training had been anything but. After every day, his mind was emptied of any capacity for thought. Finally, it was done as they came near the city of Gil'ead.

Arlen smiled with relief when Murtagh told him that his training was done. But that smile disappeared when Murtagh drew his sword. Murtagh explained, "I may have trained your mind, but maybe I didn't. There's only one way I can be sure."

Arlen nodded with understanding and drew his long sword. "If we're to spar, then let's do it," Arlen said.

Artsanna made a sound like giddy laughter. _That's the spirit, Arlen._

Arlen was only doing this to test his skill and no other reason. If he had no reason to duel, then he would rather not. But since it was the only way, he would not argue.

They took up fighting stances and prepared to duel. They circled each other, each waiting to strike. After several minutes, Arlen's patience wore thin, but he knew that he couldn't be the first to attack in a duel against someone this dangerous—he could only hope to defend himself and occasionally strike back. It was agonizing, but he could bare it.

Finally, Murtagh struck and Arlen parried. The resulting duel was long and tiring, but at least it was a better fight than when he first met Murtagh. It was the greatest test of Arlen's skill he'd ever had, but it was also exhilarating.

The duel ended soon after Murtagh lunged towards Arlen's side. He parried the red blade, and struck Murtagh's upper left arm. It drew blood and Murtagh put his hand up. "Enough!" he said urgently. "You've gotten awfully lucky this time, but Elves won't be the same way."

Arlen nodded. "Of course."

Murtagh spoke a spell and his wound was quickly healed. He then turned back to Arlen and stated, "You've passed the test. Now leave me alone. Go on your way."

Arlen watched questioningly as Murtagh climbed up Thorn's side. "Why leave?"

Murtagh didn't look back down as he called out, "You and Artsanna have your troubles and I have mine. You've got a Shade chasing after you and I've got Eragon. If he thinks there's a chance I'm a threat, he'll come out of the Unknown Lands and gut me himself."

Arlen was confused. That didn't sound like the hero most people made him out to be. "Why would he do that? I thought he wasn't that sort of hero."

Murtagh stopped on the rope ladder and looked down. "If one keeps the council of Dragons and only Dragons for too long, they start to think like Dragons. He's going to turn out like Galbatorix if he keeps himself locked away with elder Dragons."

That confused him even more. "I thought the only Dragons left after the war were all newly hatched, like Thorn. Any elder Dragons would be dead."

Murtagh shook his head and laughed. "Perhaps I said too much, my former student. Now isn't that a thought; me a teacher. What's the world coming to?" As Murtagh started to climb again he said, "I'll leave you with this riddle, Arlen: How can a dead Dragon give council to the living?" That didn't make any sense whatsoever. "Goodbye, Arlen, and good hunting. I hope you find your friends, and that they appreciate you after."

"Goodbye," Arlen replied, left with many questions and few answers.

He stepped back as Thorn flew into the sky on wings big enough to be sails for a ship. Every time he flapped his wings was like thunder, and in the sun that had decided to show itself today, he looked almost on fire. It was terrifyingly magnificent.

As the sound of Thorn's flapping faded, Arlen turned to his remaining Dragon companion. "How does a Dragon survive after death?"

Artsanna shrugged. _I have no idea. Then again, I don't know much about being a Dragon. Perhaps there's something he knows that I don't._

Arlen nodded. "Probably."

* * *

Arlen went into Gil'ead soon enough. He had to leave Artsanna, because as unseen as she could be on a cloudy day with snow at her feet, in a city, there was nowhere for a Dragon to hide. It was a good thing too because Artsanna would never have liked to be around in this cramped a space. He'd never been in a city before, but if this any indication, he wouldn't want to be again.

The sights and sounds were almost too much, and he almost lost himself in this place. The smells were awful too, and he wondered why. It seemed to be coming from a channel on the side of the rode filled with foul smelling and looking water. He wondered how that stuff could get there when a pair of shudders opened and a woman tossed the contents of a pot into the street, aiming for the channel mostly. His question unfortunately answered, he definitely wanted to leave as soon as possible.

But no matter his feelings, he had a mission to complete. He had to find where Lynde and Rose were taken. If they were sent to a prison, then he'd find out what prison. If they were sent back to Cathalorn, then he'd find that out. If they were dead then at least he'd know. All he had to do was find out where to go without appearing to be a naive traveler.

His father had told him about cities. He'd been there before, and told Arlen along with his brother and sister how travelers used to village life could easily find themselves with no money very quickly. He'd try to seem like he was someone there to stay because very few people wanted to upset the new neighbor when the neighbor wore a sword. Hopefully his plan would work and what little money he had wouldn't be stolen.

He was wondering how to find where they'd have some record of Lynde and Rose when a couple of young boys scurried beside him. Keeping his hand on his sword, he watched the boys run past him, keeping their hands to themselves. He decided to check his money pouch just the same and found it missing.

Instead of announcing something like "thief" he said very loudly, as if to address someone across the crowd, "Excuse me, but is that mine?" Instantly, a scrawny looking boy ran out of the crowd down an alley. Arlen chased after him. His longer legs were an advantage, but this boy had a lot more practice running than he did. He hoped to get the boy before he got out of the alley.

Suddenly out from a stack of barrels came a man with a long graying brown beard and a thick staff. He had a crazed look in his eyes, and made a warning sound at the pair of them. "Go young folks!" the madman said. "Run from the magician the Queen missed that is me!"

The young boy was fooled by the man, and ran right back into Arlen. He stopped the boy, and his coin pouch was soon returned. He let the boy go off without further inconvenience and turned back to the older man.

"Go, young feller! Go and leave me in peace," he said as he waved his staff.

Arlen sighed and shook his head. "I know that you're not a magician so drop the act."

The man lowered his arms in a disappointed manor. "How'd you know?"

"Not many magicians announce themselves as 'the one the Queen missed'. It's surprising that the Queen's Magicians haven't picked you up already."

"They have," the man said, sitting on a barrel, "more than once. You know, I don't think I've had a conversation this well tempered in ten years. Now isn't that odd?"

Arlen shrugged. "I guess growing up in a village beats the city." He put a hand forward. "Arlen Drydensson of Cathalorn."

The man's eyes grew wide. "You're from Cathalorn? You're Dryden's son?"

Arlen looked suspiciously at the man. "Yes. Why?

"I'm Herbst," the man said.

It was Arlen's turn to be surprised. Herbst was Lynde's father! And now that he looked, he could see the face of the crotchety man who always scared off him and Ehren when they got too close to his house, plus ten years and a long beard. Arlen smiled, realizing it was Herbst. "Yes, it is you. It is you!" They eagerly shook hands. "It's good to see a fellow man of Cathalorn here."

"Ah, so it is," Herbst replied. He then said thoughtfully, "Why are you here?"

Arlen froze for a moment. Did he really want to tell him about Lynde being a Rider? Perhaps not here, but later in another place. For now he would just say the truth excluding her being a Rider. "I'm looking for Lynde," he explained.

Herbst looked very surprised. "Are you and her…?"

He realized what Herbst was about to say and cut him off. "No, we're not. You see, she was arrested for being a magician."

Herbst sighed heavily. "Like mother like daughter," he mumbled. "Why did…?" Herbst jumped off the barrel he was sitting on and smashed another—empty, rotted—one with his staff. "Why did it have to be her?!"

"I can answer that, but not here," Arlen said, trying to calm him down. "Come with me to outside the city and I'll explain everything."

Herbst agreed and they left the city. He remembered the hill where Artsanna was hiding. The hiding spot was an old bear's den that they found abandoned, and Artsanna—much to her displeasure—dug out even more to fit herself in it. He found the old den easily, and called in, "Come out, Artsanna."

There was a rustling in it before Artsanna said, _There is someone with you. I can smell him. Who is he?_

"Lynde's father, Herbst." He could feel Herbst's confused look behind him. "Come on, Artsanna. We can trust him."

 _Alright, but if he runs, I'll go after him._

"Of course, but come out already." There was a rustling again, and Artsanna started coming out. "Herbst, meet Artsanna," he said as she climbed out of the den, "Lynde's Dragon."


	26. The Search

Herbst was surprised to say the least, though Arlen thought he took it well. He didn't run screaming back to Gil'ead or attack Artsanna. He did ask the question though, "If she's a Rider, then why did she get arrested for being a magician?"

Arlen had to explain it all over again. He was tired of having to tell the same story so many times, but it was necessary. Of course, he took it as well as could be expected when it included details such as Lynde encountering a Shade twice, and theft of a Dragon egg. When he was done, he asked Herbst, "Now isn't that the most unlikely set of events you've ever heard?"

Herbst shrugged. "I've heard stranger." He looked over Artsanna again and noted, "Dragons are everywhere around here. How do you know she's safe being in the open?"

"I don't," Arlen answered. "But she is somewhat well camouflaged against the snow."

 _In fact, Dragons have flown over our heads without so much as a second look more than once,_ Artsanna noted. She cocked her head and added, _I wonder why._

"We're just lucky I guess," Arlen said.

Herbst shook his head. "No, I once heard a couple of Riders talking in a pub. They said how they're Dragon's eyesight picked up some colors better than others. I guess you've never encountered another silver Dragon or a white one."

Arlen thought for a moment. "Actually, I don't think I've seen or heard of another Dragon like Artsanna. I guess there just aren't a lot of Dragons around."

Herbst shrugged. "So, my daughter's a rogue Rider who's been arrested by the Magicians. I'm helping you track her down, young feller, and there's no arguing that."

Arlen sighed. "You know, I was about to ask for your help anyway." Herbst smiled. "Is there anything you know about what happens to magicians who are arrested?"

Herbst nodded. "If they're not sent home or join the Magicians, they're sent up north. I tried following their wagon one time, but they forced me to go back to Gil'ead."

Arlen nodded in acknowledge as he started to think about that. Where were they sent? A prison? Was there any prison that could keep a magician captive? When they were captured in Carvahall, the only reason Rose didn't try to escape was out of respect for Roran Stronghammer. How could they stop an Elf from escaping?

He quickly figured out a plan. "I'll go to the Magicians' outpost in Gil'ead and try to find out what happened to them. Herbst, I'll need you to show me where that is."

Herbst nodded. "Anything to help find my daughter."

Arlen nodded and turned to Artsanna. "You'll have to stay here a while longer."

Artsanna growled. _I hate being kept in this hole!_

"Well, it's either that or the Riders will find you. It's your choice."

Artsanna sighed. _Fine, but you'd better do what you have to quickly or else I'll go mad._

"Very well." Arlen turned to Herbst. "You can go ahead back. I want to talk to Artsanna for a bit." Herbst nodded understandingly, and started back to the city. Meanwhile, Arlen started to question Artsanna about something. "Are you alright?"

Artsanna scoffed. _I am fine. I have not been injured, and my sickness left me weeks ago._

"Yes, but what about Lynde? Are you doing alright without her?"

Artsanna nodded her head. _We are going to find her. I am extremely excited for it, but can wait a little longer._

Arlen sighed. "Back at the Urgal village, you seemed really concerned for her. You were almost going to go off alone after her."

 _We were not making any attempt then, and we are now. I have no reason to be anxious when we're actually putting effort into finding her._ Arlen could respect Artsanna. She did what many could not, despite being only a few months old; be calm when a loved one was in possible danger. He wondered if all Dragons were like this or just her.

He smiled and said, "Alright then. Then we'll find her."

* * *

Herbst brought Arlen to the Magicians' outpost in Gil'ead. The place was a great tower, which Arlen was saved the trouble of having to climb the thing by a servant of the Magicians being present in the first room. The servant greeted him saying, "Welcome, citizen, to the Tower of the Magicians."

Arlen went right to the point. "I friend of mine was taken by the Magicians for having magic. Is there any way of tracking them down?"

The servant—a pale man who looked like he spent his entire life indoors—thought for a moment and said, "Well, I can check the records, but I don't think the Magicians would forcibly take anyone."

Arlen shrugged. "Does it matter if it was forced or not? I want to know where they are."

"Alright, master, need no to get upset. Let me just look in the records." The man led Arlen up a flight of stairs into a large library filled with books, several of them very dusty. Arlen had no great love of reading, not did have disdain for it; reading had its place, but considering what he did, it didn't have much of one. As the man went to a certain section he asked, "I'm guessing this was recent, but how recent?"

Counting the weeks in between then and now, he said, "About four weeks ago."

The man sighed and shook his head. "That's a start, but I'd like it if you could give me a more exact date. Do you remember the day?"

He couldn't exactly know when Lynde arrived in Gil'ead. He could guess though. "Four weeks and somewhere between three and five days." The man nodded, taking out three volumes that looked more recent.

Before the man searched through them, he asked, "What was the name of your friend?"

"Lynde of Cathalorn," Arlen said, then stated the spelling of Cathalorn, just in case. He also added, "I don't know how to spell 'Lynde', but I think you should be able to find her. She came in with another woman named Rose." The man nodded and started his research.

As the man read, Arlen was left to take in his surroundings. The wealth of the Empire was not displayed here as it was in the first room. Everything here was practical, except the dust and cobwebs. There was little furniture other than towering bookcases with ladders reaching up their heights, a few chairs and tables for study, and a few strange looking lamps for light. It was not the most interesting place he'd been, but all things considered, he'd rather be bored than in a cell like in Roran's castle.

After a long time, the man was finally done. He brought Arlen over, and pointed to Lynde's name in the book. "Here she is, Lynde of Cathalorn. It says that she joined the Magicians, though her post is not one I'm familiar with."

That didn't sound like Lynde. She would never give up her life of freedom no matter what, especially not when Artsanna depended on her. Though perhaps they did not want to admit they had a prison, so listed her being posted somewhere would be a cover for this. "What's her post?" he asked, wondering about where she was being kept.

"Some place called Dras-Blöthr, but I'm not familiar with this," he said.

"Maybe it's new," Arlen suggested.

"No, I've worked for the Magicians for five years and I've only heard of this place maybe a dozen times. I know of every other Magician holding, but this one is a mystery." As he put the volumes away he said, "I'm going to do more research into this. If you want to know my results, you can ask for me. My name is Berke."

Arlen nodded. "Alright, I might." He really wasn't sure if he'd come back, so he wouldn't make any promises.

"Oh, and what is your name?" Berke asked.

"Arlen," he replied.

"Good, good. You can show yourself out, correct?" Berke said as he took another volume of records from a shelf. Arlen nodded. "Good, so please do so."

As he did, he wondered about that cart heading north. He needed to find out when they would be leaving to track them down. He already had a plan for when they did follow it, so all they needed was the time when it was leaving.


	27. Waiting

Arlen was growing impatient. He, Herbest, and Artsanna had been waiting for more magicians going to Dras-Blöthr, but there had been none. This fact had kept them in Gil'ead for over two weeks. It was no small wonder why not only Arlen, but Herbst and even Artsanna were frustrated.

Since it took so long, Arlen had to take up a few odd jobs. He'd joined up with the city guard temporarily—and they knew he wasn't going to be there long. After he was nearly overwhelmed by the complete lack of respect afforded to the guard, he became a courier for a local merchant to keep his endurance up. He was dismissed from that job because his employer found running him ragged too easy, though he was going to quit that job anyway. But in all that, he had managed to get enough for food and board for himself and Herbst—who would be on the street otherwise.

Jobless, he decided to go and see what Berke was doing. Perhaps he knew when the next wagon would be.

As he was allowed into the tower's library, he soon found Berke. He was at a study table with stacks of record books on either side of him. He looked bored yet fascinated with the volume he was currently reading. He nearly jumped when Arlen announced himself. He regained his composure somewhat, and said, "Ah, Arlen. It's good you're here. There's something I wanted to tell you."

Arlen nodded suspiciously. "Okay."

"I've been looking through these old records, some going as far back as ten years, and found something strange," Berke stated. "Trianna was posted at Dras-Blöthr."

Arlen frowned. "You say that like it's supposed to mean something to me," Arlen said, slightly confused. The name sounded familiar, but he didn't connect the name with anything or anyone.

Berke didn't seem to mind explaining it. "Trianna was the leader of the Varden's magicians—the Du Vrangr Gata—during the war and the Queen's Magicians after that. But, about eight years ago, she attempted to overthrow Nasuada and impose her own rule. Of course it was thwarted by the Riders. It was said that she was sent to a prison where she couldn't use her magic, though no one has seen her since."

Arlen caught on to what he was saying. "So if she's imprisoned, why would she be posted at Dras-Blöthr unless it's a prison?"

Berke nodded. "I've also gone through all the records between now and nine years ago. Trianna wasn't even the first. When someone's sent to Dras-Blöthr, they never show up on the log again, not even in status reports, except in very rare cases. They've got an army of magicians in Dras-Blöthr, Arlen, and they're doing nothing with it. It has to be a prison, it just has to be."

Arlen nodded. "So, do you have any idea of where it is?"

Berke shook his head regretfully. "Nothing. It doesn't show up on any maps, and there's no account of it except here. It seems that they're sent in batches—excluding Trianna. It's on a monthly basis, oddly enough. They're 'posted' here first, and then sent to Dras-Blöthr. Your friend was unfortunate enough to be here exactly when they were sending the new batch."

Arlen quickly asked, "When does the next batch leave?"

"Two and a half weeks from now." Arlen sighed mournfully. "Is that bad?"

Arlen nodded. "I expected this to be faster. I was planning on following the next batch, but if it's going to be that long, I'm not sure I'll be able to."

Berke was surprised with Arlen. "You're going to…? Do you really want to do this?"

Arlen sighed, realizing in his weariness he had said something that he probably shouldn't have. "It's what I have to do to return a favor. Though after this, we're most definitely even."

"I should think so!" Berke said, still surprised. "You're going up against the Empire here, a feat that no one has been able to walk away from since the Riders came back. Are you sure you want to do that?"

Arlen looked Berke dead in the eyes as he said, "Lynde, separate from the Queen's Magicians, saved my entire village from an Urgal attack. The Riders and the Magicians were nowhere to be seen, and she saved us. While I'm convinced these were special circumstances, it has also convinced me that controlling magicians is the dumbest decision Queen Nasuada has made as queen. We need independent magicians for when there isn't anyone who is supposed to be protecting us around. If we don't have them, then what's to stop rogue Urgals, rogue magicians, or anything like that from trampling over us?"

Berke was quiet for a moment. He might not have heard something so against the Empire like that in a long time. Berke, after several minute of silence, said in a hushed tone, "Some time ago, my older sister's son was found to be a magician and joined them. It was after I started working for them, and since then my sister has been in an awful state. She wants to see her son again, but she can't because of the Magicians' rules. If you can prove your point to not just me but to everyone else—even the Queen—then maybe my sister can see her son again. I will help you however I can for them."

Arlen nodded understandingly. He also remembered about his and Herbst's money problems and asked, "If it's not too much of a problem, would you mind if myself and another stayed at your home until the next batch of prisoners is sent?"

Berke nodded, and then looked rather considerate for a moment. "I think it would be alright, but I'll have to talk to my wife. I'll talk to her about it. She'll probably allow it. She always liked Leavitt—my nephew. I think I can convince her." It sounded like he was trying to convince himself as he turned to the side a little. After a moment's silence, he snapped back to Arlen and said, "Don't worry. It'll be fine. She rarely turns down strangers, especially when she can test recipes on them."

Arlen nodded slowly and said just as slowly, "Okay." Berke then gave him directions to his house rather rapidly, much to his relief since he'd never been there before. He then told him, "We'll be there tonight then."

"Good. Now where did all of these volumes come from…?"

* * *

The days passed quickly while Arlen and Herbst stayed at Berke's house. It was in a good, but not rich neighborhood, and the house was a bit more lavish than he was used to, though it was easy to adapt to. Arlen also learned what Berke was talking about when he talking about his wife's—her name was Wyeth—tests, as every night dinner was different, even if it was ever so slight. It almost came to Arlen as a surprise when it was time to move out.

Really it was the day before going. The wagon left with the prisoners before dawn, and so would they. Their plan was to camp outside the city, near the path the wagon would take. Though before then, they had a very good meal from Wyeth.

When asked about it, she said, "If you're going to leave, then a farewell meal is the best thing for it. Believe me when I say that food can soften the blow of tragedies such as this." From the look of her, she'd had fewer tragedies than Arlen; that was for certain. Arlen found it odd that a woman who liked cooking so much was so thin, though perhaps it was not the quantity but the quality she preferred.

As they were about to head out, there was a knock at the door. Arlen made sure that he was near the door for this, though out of sight. Berke was the one to answer, and from what little he saw from his spot, he could tell these were spear bearing city guards, if not soldiers. "What can I help you two with?" Berke asked.

A gruff voice said back, "We have orders to arrest and detain you for the time being." Berke blanched. "Do not try to resist or we will be forced to use... force."

Berke nodded. "Just let me say goodbye to my wife."

There was a slight rustling of cloth and the same voice saying, "As I understand it, it will only be temporary. But you can say your goodbyes all the same."

Berke closed the door and turned to Arlen and Wyeth. "I shouldn't be gone too long."

Wyeth looked sad, but understanding. "I pray you won't be. It… It would get lonely without you."

Berke embraced his wife. "Someday we're going to have to fix that," he sighed and added, "but not today." He then turned to Arlen and said, "Don't worry. I'll be alright. Just find your friend."

Arlen nodded. As much as he wanted to correct whatever injustice was happening to the man who'd put them up for so long, he had another debt to repay. Hopefully he would help Berke sometime in the future, but not tonight. Tonight he would have to let him go.

As Berke opened the door and disappeared, Arlen went to Herbst in the guest room. "We should go soon."

"I agree," Herbst replied. "Of course, we'll have little supplies, but that never stopped me when I was traveling."

"I'll help." Arlen turned around to see Wyeth standing in the doorway. Her voice sounded meeker than normally. "I can give you food, water, and whatever else you'll need on your trip."

Arlen nodded. He didn't know how people could become so hospitable, but he wouldn't question it. He'd take whatever help he could get at this point if it meant getting Lynde back.


	28. The Secret Mark

Lynde had no clue as to how long she'd been in Dras-Blöthr. All the days had blurred together into spending time with her mother and building up her strength—a pastime of most of the prisoners. It wasn't as if she was enjoying herself there. It was awful, and while she'd gone half mad getting used to Artsanna's thoughts in her mind, she was having a rough time getting used to her absence. But she never lost hope; never once thought she wasn't getting out of there.

During her time there, she'd tried to escape three different times, three different ways. The failure of these attempts ranged from moderate to spectacular. She tried to forget the catapult attempt, and move on with her plans.

She was just sitting down to dinner when her mother once again pestered her about her mittens. "You shouldn't eat with your mittens on, Lynde," she said. "You'll get wool in your food."

Lynde growled and replied, "My hands are cold." Really they were, as it was the winter and they outside in the common area where the guards told them to eat without a fire. The food wasn't very warm, despite obviously being cooked. It was overall a cold place and a cold time of year.

Of course, being cold also helped her hide the mark on her right palm. The gedwëy ignasia Rose called it. The silvery patch of skin was the mark of the Dragon Riders, which every Rider had from when they first touched their Dragon's scales. She was amazed they hadn't found it sooner, but then again she did wear her mittens almost constantly.

Her mother put on a serious face. "You say that every time, and I've seen you cough because of it. If you won't learn, I'll just have to take the things from you."

She reached for Lynde's right mitten, and she pulled back. She wouldn't let her mother do this, especially in a place so public. "Mom, don't…"

"Ah, Lynde, Fayre," Rose said as she sat down next to Lynde. "What are you doing?"

"Trying to convince Lynde to take off her mittens," her mother said.

Rose looked to Lynde. "I'm not doing it; it's cold."

"There's your answer," Rose said. "If she doesn't want to, then don't try to make her. She'll learn some time not to do it."

Fayre sighed. "Fine, but next winter, you'd better get over this."

Lynde shook her head chuckling. She really thought that she would still be here by then? "I plan to leave in a week," Lynde said simply.

Fayre sighed, shaking her head. "When will you accept that escape is impossible? Three attempts with no success. You need to stop wasting your energy and start thinking."

Lynde slammed a fist on the table. "I will get out of here, and you can't stop me!" She rushed from the table, running to the exit in a flurry of emotion.

She was stopped by the guards. They crossed their spears in Lynde's path and grabbed her arms. "You're not leaving," the Elven guard said in a calming voice. "Go back to your seat and enjoy your meal."

She struggled against them. "No! You've kept me caged too long! I won't follow your orders anymore!"

The guard shook his head. "Peace, girl." You need to calm yourself." She struggled again. She wouldn't be calm! She had to get out!

As she tried to break free, her mitten was caught on one of the guard's vambraces. As they threw her back, the mitten was ripped off her hand. She quickly closed her hand to hide the mark, but the guard who hadn't spoken had a very surprised look on his face as if he'd noticed it. "Open your hand," the guard said with a much deeper voice.

Lynde shook her head. "No."

As she tried to leave, the guard said again, "Open your hand."

"Lidren, what are you doing?" the first guard asked.

"I saw something in her hand, Viadí," the second guard—apparently called Lidren—said.

The first guard—apparently named Viadí—looked Lynde in the eyes and said, "Open your hand to dissuade my suspicious comrade. He thinks you have a weapon."

Her fingers felt the gedwëy ignasia, and she shook her head. "No."

Viadí sighed. "If you don't open your hand, we'll have to do it for you. Now, what is your decision?"

Lynde considered it for a moment. If she didn't, then they'd do it anyway, and see the mark. But if she did, it would have the same effect. Or would it? She thought of how to avoid discovery, and she figured out a plan.

She opened her hand, palm facing the ground, so that anything she was holding would fall out. It was also low enough that no one could actually see her palm or the mark on it. Viadí seemed satisfied. "See, Lidren? She's got nothing."

Lidren frowned. "I thought I saw something," he mumbled to Viadí.

Viadí took Lynde's lost mitten off his vambrace, and approached her with it. "I believe this belongs to you." Lynde accepted it with her left hand and put it on, careful to avoid showing him her palm. Before she went back to her table, Viadí noted, "I'm sorry we've kept you here. I know Humans value where they spend their time, and keeping you here must be awful for you, but I think it is for your own kind's good that you're here. All the same, I regret inconveniencing you."

Lynde gave Viadí a suspicious look, and went to sit back down. She didn't know if he had another motive with this, but she was glad to have her mitten back. As she sat down, she started eating again.

"Have you calmed down?" Rose said offhandedly.

"Possibly," Lynde replied and began eating again, careful to not swallow any wool.

* * *

As the trio went back to their apartment after dinner, Lynde considered something. Her mother should know about the gedwëy ignasia, and the Dragon who gave it to her. She just had to remember to word it well, since Rose liked to remind her how the guards might have eavesdropping spells on the place. While she'd never seen any evidence of the Elves eavesdropping, she wouldn't take any chances now.

As they got in, Lynde asked for the three of them to talk in the basement. They agreed, though suspicious. When they got down there with the door shut, Lynde turned to Rose and said, "I'm telling Mom about my friend."

A look of recognition crossed her face. During their time here, they'd referred to Artsanna as Lynde's "friend". Rose nodded and said, "Just remember about what kind of ears the Elves have."

Lynde nodded, turning to her bewildered mother. "What about your friend?"

"Mom… look." She took off her right mitten, showing her gedwëy ignasia to her mother.

Her mother was shocked. The look on her face was so full of surprise that Lynde didn't think anything could make her more so. "You're… You're… How…? Why…?"

Lynde gulped. There was no turning back now. "I… You see, it was stolen and ended up with me. That's how I made my friend."

Her mom looked from the mark to Lynde's eyes, and back between them again. "Then… why are you here?"

"They don't know. And they can't. I'd be trading one prison for another. And besides that, I don't even know where my friend is now."

Her mother felt the gedwëy ignasia, as if to make sure it wasn't a trick. When she finally spoke again, she said, "Your father is going to have a fit about this, I just know it."

"That's if we get out of here," Rose noted. "We still don't…" Suddenly, a grin crept onto her face. "Wait, I think I remember something that might help us."

"What?" Lynde asked.

"It's been six months. You know what your friend will be doing now?"

"What?"

"Making a fire."

It took Lynde a moment to realize what she meant by that. "Oh yes she will." Artsanna would be able to breathe fire by now.


	29. Trouble in Twos

Arlen and Herbst followed Artsanna as she followed the wagon carrying magicians to Dras-Blöthr. The two men were far behind Artsanna, as she was as far as she could be behind it without losing sight. Her silvery scales blended with the snow well enough, and her slow movements helped her sneak behind it as well. She was like a wraith—a white wraith with red eyes.

They'd started this earlier when Artsanna woke them up before dawn. As it turned out, Dragons didn't need to sleep as often as Humans, so she watched the north road out of Gil'ead as Arlen and Herbst slept. And so they'd followed all the way to midday when Arlen started to wonder if this was the best idea.

What if the wagon kept going after nightfall? The three of them couldn't keep following them continuously for days. That's when it occurred to him that while the men driving the horse could sleep in shifts, the horses couldn't. The horses needed rest just as much as any of them, so they definitely needed to stop some time.

As they were walking around a hill next to the rode, Artsanna suddenly headed for deep snow, disappearing beneath it. He wondered why she did that as he heard a faint flapping sound. He turned to the source of it and saw two Dragons flying down upon them. Riders!

He didn't run, and stopped Herbst from running as well. If they ran, then they would be run down and taken for guilty. If they didn't run, they might be able to talk their way out of it. He put more faith in words than his legs so he'd try talking for now.

As they were about to land, he could see some very distinct differences between them and Artsanna. While he'd seen other Dragons before, he hadn't really studied them, except maybe Thorn, who was definitely a different matter entirely. The larger of the Dragons was a misty blue color, with elegant features, wings just large enough to fly, and thin torso and limbs. The other was only slightly smaller, with a thick head plate—like Artsanna's, but thicker—and a very muscular body. Its scales were a color between yellow and brown, like the sand on the beach of the North Sea. The two were a very odd pair, and their Riders were even more so.

As the two dismounted and walked to Arlen and Herbst, their oddness was evident. One was an Elf man with black hair and a disapproving look to him. The other was a short, stout woman, who had to be a Dwarf, and had thick blond braids running down the sides of her head, as well as a grin. The Elf had dismounted the blue Dragon, and the Dwarf the sand-colored one. He'd never seen either of them, though they did live up to their reputations—he imagined that if either of them was a woman, he might be attracted to the Elf, but he had no idea.

The Dwarf spoke first in a thick accented voice, after bowing. "I am Glarda of Dûrgrimst Gedthrall, senior Rider, and this is Vanir of… whatever Elf family he says he's from, gods know I can't keep em' straight."

Vanir sighed. "You know saying you're the senior Rider just confuses them."

Glarda laughed heartily. "The truth of how you were held back doesn't mean I shouldn't say mine rank."

"But I do not have seniority and yet I have the larger Dragon," Vanir countered. "Don't you think it is slightly confusing?" Arlen could only wonder why Vanir was held back.

Glarda shook her head. "Not to me." She turned back to Arlen and Herbst. "So, any reason you two are following that wagon?"

Herbst put his best confused look on his face and said, "What wagon?"

Vanir sighed again. "The wagon just up the road. You can't tell me that…"

The Elf looked back to his Dragon, as did the Dwarf. A conversation must have taken place between them, because immediately the Dragons started searching like hunting dogs for something. Glarda asked, "Do you two know anything about a Dragon around here?"

Arlen pointed to the two Dragons sniffing along the ground. Vanir shook his head. "A Dragon other than those two."

Herbst shook his head. "Why do you think we'd know anything about a Dragon?"

As Vanir replied, Artsanna contacted Arlen. It drowned out his reply so that all he could here was Artsanna's plan. _When I tell you to, attack the Riders. I'll handle the Dragons._

Arlen didn't know if he could reply to her, so he'd just have to go along with the plan. As much as he was worried that his training with Murtagh wouldn't work, he couldn't let Artsanna down. No matter his feelings, if Artsanna attacked the Dragons while the Riders were unoccupied, then she'd have to deal with magic that she had no defense against. He'd just have to hope it would work.

Before anything would happen, Arlen had to decide something. Would he kill the Riders? He'd killed before, though mostly that was just Urgals. Could he be responsible for killing two Riders—peacekeepers of Alagaësia—as if it was nothing? No he couldn't do that. He wouldn't kill the Riders, though that would make things much harder—or perhaps easier, he had no way of knowing.

After several seconds of waiting, Artsanna made her move. She leapt out of the snow right under her hunters, grabbing onto the sandy Dragon, and slashing it in the jaw. The Dragon went reeling as his or her blue companion tried pouncing on her. Artsanna dashed out of the way, slashing the blue Dragon in the side as she did. She was doing well so far, but her opponents had more years than her, so that would soon come into play.

Arlen decided to attack just as the Riders moved past him to get a better look at the situation. He began to draw his sword, but as he did so, Vanir immediately reacted. He began to turn and draw his sword, but Arlen managed to strike him with the pommel of his long sword just before he could draw. The Elf was disoriented, but that wouldn't last long.

Before he could continue his attack, he had to deal with Glarda. He kicked her in the stomach before she knew what was going on, sending her back. That would buy him time—not a lot, but some.

He parried Vanir's sword just in time, and tried slashing him in the hand. It didn't work, as the Elf was too quick, and he blocked.

The Elf began to say a spell, much to Arlen's panic. He managed to throw him off though, kicking him in the shin—which turned out to have light armor on it, which was unfortunate for his toes—and interrupting the Elf midway through his spell. He had to keep the Elf off balance enough to keep him from using magic, or else this duel was doomed to failure.

Glarda had recovered, and was about to join the fray when Herbst wacked her in the head with his staff. Vanir must have seen this and chuckled. "One of Alaric's original Riders and she can't even remember to include that among her wards," Vanir said.

Arlen was surprised. She had been of Alaric's class? She was one of the original students of Eragon? Vanir took advantage of Arlen's surprise and struck. Arlen—forgetting his training for a moment—blocked, and was knocked to the ground.

Vanir started to say, "Alright, whose Dragon is…?" but was interrupted by Herbst. It sounded like Herbst was speaking in the Ancient Language or something, but he wasn't a magician. Was he? It didn't matter, as Vanir was distracted enough by Herbst so that Arlen could slash him in the hand and leg. Before the crumbling Vanir could speak a spell, Arlen rose and finished him off with another strike of his pommel right to the head.

With both Riders unconscious, Arlen looked to see how Artsanna was doing. It seemed that she was talking to the blue Dragon, and not out of anger. They were sitting like dogs would sit, looking at each other, and probably having a very involved conversation. The sandy Dragon was grasping its wound, which had fortunately stopped bleeding, and may have been talking as well. Though each of them had their share of wounds from each other, it looked as though they were being civil about it.

Something he soon realized was that Glarda couldn't have been one of Alaric's classmates. Her Dragon wasn't much larger as Karasi's Dragon, which was much smaller than Magnora. Besides, she hadn't put up much of a fight. He imagined that Alaric or one of his original Riders would have fought harder than that.

Artsanna turned to Arlen and said, _Vrenshrrgn and Datia are not going to pursue us. We've come to an understanding._

"Well that's good," Arlen said. He was glad he didn't have to explain it for once.

Soon enough Artsanna looked back to the Dragons, as if in conversation again. She shook her head, which now seemed strange to him. The other Dragons, as they conversed, didn't use any body language he could recognize. How different Artsanna was from other Dragons. She was soon done, and she beckoned for Arlen and Herbst to follow.

Before they did, one of the Dragons said to Arlen, _Safe travels, not-the-Silver-One's-Rider._ Arlen could only imagine what prompted that.


	30. Shadowing

The wagon going to Dras-Blöthr stopped for the night, so Arlen and his companions stopped as well. They didn't dare build a fire so close to the Magician camp, so they had to go without one, much to their displeasure. Artsanna seemed fine though—much different than during the storm they met Murtagh and Thorn in. They set up their tents and hoped that would help against the cold.

Before Arlen went to shiver himself to sleep he asked Herbst a question that had been knocking around in his mind for hours. "How do you know the Ancient Language? You're not a magician, so how?"

"How do you know I'm not?" Herbst replied. Arlen could tell it was a joke and chuckled a little. "Well, Fayre thought it would be good for me to know, especially to make foolish people think I was a magician. I have no magic, but if people think I do, it catches their attention like it did with that Elf's. He thought I was the bigger threat so he went after me."

"Yeah," Arlen said thoughtfully. "That's a good trick, old man."

"Old man? Well, I suppose I am, in a way. How long has it been anyway?"

"Ten years since you left, I think."

"Well then, I may be approaching my twilight years sooner than I thought, but I'm not an old man just yet, youngster." Arlen supposed that he must have been born this way for him to be so crotchety. An image of a frowning baby came to mind, making him smile a little.

"Whatever you say," Arlen replied.

* * *

In the morning the wagon set out again, and a chilled Arlen and Herbst followed with Artsanna at the front. The wagon avoided any and all villages and towns along the way, so at least they didn't have to worry about Artsanna being seen. What they realized too late was that they were being followed as well.

Vanir, on foot, running faster than Arlen had ever seen was catching up to them. There was no Dragon with him, nor was Glarda following him—or if she was, she couldn't keep pace with him. Either the Dragons and the Riders didn't agree not to follow them or that Elf really wanted to apologize. Arlen decided that whatever his intentions, he probably wasn't going to allow them to go on.

Arlen didn't want to fight a magician like Vanir. With no magician on their side, they didn't stand much of a chance. But then again, Vanir may have still thought that Herbst was a Magician, so perhaps he wouldn't attack with magic. But no matter what, he didn't know how they were going to win.

Fortunately, for some reason, Vanir turned back. He stopped, stumbled, and ran back the way he came. Arlen wondered what could have startled him so much, and began to scan for anything that might have done that. When he saw what had scared Vanir, he almost wanted to run as well; it was Raud.

Arlen knew that as little chance as he had against an Elf, Raud would cause even more problems for him. Fortunately Raud was less interested in their group, favoring Vanir. The Shade sprinted off to fight the Elf, leaving Arlen and his companions to continue their journey in relative peace.

Confused by the event, Herbst turned to him and asked, "Does this sort of thing happen often around you?"

Arlen shook his head and then reconsidered. "That Shade's tried to kill us more than once, but saving us? That's new."

Herbst ahead to Artsanna. "Do you think she's got something to do with it?"

Arlen nodded. "Definitely."

"Then it probably involves my daughter as well," Herbst sighed. "He must want them both and not just one."

"Maybe." He liked to think that Raud just wanted to kill, but if he wanted Lynde and Artsanna at the same time, it might be more than that. He could only guess what dark design he had for the two, and hope that it never happened.

* * *

After a while in silence, Herbst asked Arlen a question. "What do you know about Shades?"

Arlen answered to the best of his ability. "I know they're all evil by nature, and that they're a lot stronger than an Elf."

Herbst asked another question, seemingly unsatisfied with his answer. "Do you know how many Shades there were in the war?"

Arlen had to think for a moment. His mind went back to the stories he was told by his father. He finally came up with an answer. "One, but he died soon into the war."

Herbst shook his head. "Two actually. There was Durza, and you know who he is." Everyone knew the name of the Shade that, no matter how evil, disappointed everyone by not killing Eragon when he had the chance and stopping the rebellion. "But then there was Varaug, who was summoned during the battle of Feinster."

Arlen had to ask, but he was afraid of the answer. "Which side did it?"

"The Empire. Galbatorix's sorcerers summoned him in a fit over being on the losing side or something like that. Varaug was killed by that Elf Queen Arya soon after being summoned, so he wasn't in the war for long." Herbst frowned at Arlen. "I'm surprised you didn't know that."

"Well you probably heard it in Gil'ead."

"True, but your father was in the war. Wouldn't he have heard something about it?"

"He was a true hero of the Empire," Arlen said, defensive of his father. "He volunteered to fight the Varden aggravators, and won battles for the King. When Urȗ'baen was taken and its name defaced, he wasn't part of the rebellions that sprang up; he knew when they were beaten, and came back for me and my brothers and sister."

"I remember those three. How are they?"

"Ehren's the chief guardsman since an Urgal killed Dad," Arlen said. "Embry's managed to wrestle herself a possible match with a young tradesman, and Gratian's dead."

Herbst coughed. "I'm sorry," he said. "I didn't know your family had taken such a beating."

"Our family's tougher than most, but that ends up with more people wanting to take us on," Arlen said. "Of course, we can take it. You know how my grandfather died? He died serving the Empire in an attack by the Varden. It took a dozen Dwarves to take him down. That's how my dad tells it anyway."

Herbst shook his head. "You're family's madder than I am."

"Nope, just braver," Arlen said, "or maybe both."

"I think just madder," Herbst noted.

Arlen shrugged. "It's led to this, hasn't it—rescuing your daughter?"

"I guess so." He gave Arlen an intense stare and said, "I'm not going to let you marry her though."

Arlen raised his hands defensively. "I'm not going to marry her. I would rather marry someone without all the trappings associated with magic… or a Dragon."

Herbst nodded. "Good. Now let's keep going."


	31. Into the Forest

It was a few days after their encounter with the Riders when the road to Dras-Blöthr turned into a pine forest where the trees bent into an intentional looking path. Arlen knew that this was the forest of the Elves; Du Weldenvarden. Artsanna was following the wagon up ahead, and Herbst was right in front of Arlen when he stopped in fear. Herbst turned around and said, "Why are you stopping?"

"It's Du Weldenvarden," Arlen replied. "That's where the Elves live."

For the first time in recent memory, he was frozen with fear. He wouldn't go into the forest of the Elves—a den of monsters—not even for Lynde. He may have been a coward, but he was okay with that if it meant that he wouldn't run into an Elf.

Herbst frowned. "Arlen, you've met Elves before. You or two more won't hurt."

"Those were different," Arlen said. "Rose is definitely not a normal Elf, and I didn't have a choice about that Rider. Elves are monsters that I don't want to come anywhere close to, especially not going into their forest."

Herbst sighed. "You're going to stop out here because of a little fear? I thought your line was supposed to be tougher than most."

Arlen, angered by that comment, replied, "We are, but I'm not going in there."

"Would Dryden cower out here when there was a friend to be rescue in there?"

Arlen grasped the Herbst by the collar. He then thwarted an attempt by Herbst to jab him in the guts with his staff, grabbing it and throwing it to the side. Very angry, Arlen said, "Don't you talk about him. I won't have you dishonor his memory like that."

Herbst smiled. "You know something? We didn't have a town guard until after the war when Dryden came back and made one. It was out of fear of the Elves and other threats. But he wasn't afraid for himself; he was afraid for you and your siblings."

Arlen was confused. His father… What? "How do you know this?"

"Because that's the sort of man that volunteers for soldiery in Galbatorix's army. Can you say the same? Can you put aside your fears for Lynde? I can."

After a few moments consideration, Arlen said, "So can I."

"Good, now can you let me go?" Arlen did so, Herbst picked up his staff, and they walked into Du Weldenvarden.

Now that he had entered the forest, he noticed that it was like any other forest he'd been in. The trees were normal fir trees, and the animals were rather normal. In fact, the one thing that was different was that he found no traces of any hunting, which made sense considering that Rose said that Elves didn't hunt or eat meat. Overall, not particularly scary—though his fear was of Elves, not killer rabbits.

Suddenly, three Elves jumped out of the brush onto the path, all pointing bows at them. There were two in front of them, and one behind. Arlen put his hands up away from his weapon, and Herbst did the same, dropping his staff. A silver haired Elf woman eyed them up and said in the strange melodic accent of the Elves, "What are you doing here?"

Arlen quickly thought up an appropriate story that, in fact, was true in a way. "We're following the wagon to Dras-Blöthr."

"Why?" the Elf said.

"Because this one," he gestured to Herbst, "made some trouble. He can't ride in the cart, so I'm escorting him."

The silver-haired Elf frowned. "You do not have the uniform of an Imperial soldier. Why?"

Remembering a sight Artsanna had sent him, he said, "Do you really think we'd wear uniforms for this. Do you really think the Empire needs to let everyone know that soldiers are passing through this area? Questions would be asked, no doubt."

The Elf nodded. "Good answer, but we need one more piece of evidence before we make sure of you being with the Empire." That was an awfully long way of putting it. "Say in the Ancient Language that you are a soldier."

Arlen tried to hide is panic as best he could as he said, "I don't know the Ancient Language, so I can't do that."

The Elf didn't exactly seem upset by this, though her patience may have been running thin. "Then I will tell you what words to say, and you will say them."

Arlen shook his head. "Then I wouldn't know what they meant, and even if you did tell me that, I would have only your word to go on. An oath in the Ancient Language is meaningless if you don't understand it."

The Elf, while not displaying anger on her face, had a terrifying rage in her eyes. He was right and she knew it. "Well then, we shall just have to scan your mind then."

"I won't submit to that," Arlen replied.

"You don't have to." Arlen felt a pressure against his mind as—presumably—the Elf began to attack his mind. He threw up barriers, blocking her. While she tried to break through them, he managed to defend. He didn't know how long he could keep this up though.

One of her companions—a dark haired Elf man—said something or other in the Ancient Language. While originally he'd been afraid that the other Elf was speaking a spell, his tone seemed urgent and it seemed he was talking to the silver haired one. After several seconds, the silver haired one halted her attack and replied to her companion in their language.

The dark haired man bowed to Arlen and Herbst and said, "I apologize Milrá's actions. You should know that I have relieved her of command because of them, and that she has had a very trying time recently."

Arlen didn't think that was a good excuse. Emotions shouldn't interfere with one's job, only drive them to success. But he didn't have any choice but to accept the apology. "Alright. Now can we move on?"

"While I would ask to probe your mind, I doubt you would agree to it," the Elf man said. "I ask you then to prove that your prisoner is a magician by making him speak in the Ancient Language. And if he casts a spell with it, I wouldn't worry; he can't do anything to escape from three Elves and yourself."

Herbst grinned. It was fortunate that he knew some of the Ancient Language then. "Don't worry I won't escape." He then spoke something in the Ancient Language that quite obviously upset and offended the Elves in some way.

"I hope he gets beaten at Dras-Blöthr, the little…" the silver haired Milrá said before being interrupted by her companion. Whatever he said, it made her hold her tongue and calm down slightly. "Good travels."

"Good travels," Arlen replied and moved past the Elves to follow that wagon. He then mumbled to Herbst in such a way that the Elves would hear it. "I hope my captain isn't too upset about the delay."

Catching onto the act, Herbst replied, "If he is, I hope you get the lash."

It was some time and distance before Arlen felt that he could speak freely. When he did, he asked Herbst, "What exactly did you say to them anyway?"

"Nothing that needs to be repeated," Herbst replied, grinning. "In fact, I'm not entirely sure what all of it meant. Fayre just told me it was a sure way to get an Elf upset. Said she used to say it to her master occasionally to bug her."

Arlen gave a half grin half grimace and said, "It sure got them upset." Then he realized something. "Wait, her master was an Elf?"

Herbst shrugged. "I don't know. She never said anything one way or the other about it."

For a moment, he thought perhaps Rose had trained Fayre. He quickly realized that it would be a ridiculous coincidence if she did, so pushed the thought out of his mind. The world didn't always work out like the stories did, so it probably wasn't so. Still…


	32. At the Doors of the Void

After traveling through Du Weldenvarden for several days, Arlen, Herbst, and Artsanna followed the wagon to a very different part of the woods. Most of the trees were old and tall, but here they didn't reach as high as others, and the underbrush was nowhere near as thick. It was here that they couldn't follow the wagon anymore. They had reached the end of their journey; Dras-Blöthr.

Arlen and Artsanna scouted the perimeter of the prison. When they met up again at dusk, they compared notes with Herbst, who'd set up camp. The prison was huge, the size of a small city, and had very few exits and entrances. On the walls were Elven guards with longbows and plate armor. The walls themselves were partially stone and partially trees that seemed like they were part of it. If only they had an axe.

Immediately, they began planning. "I think the most obvious way to do this is for Artsanna to fly over the wall," Herbst said. "She can get in and out easily."

Artsanna stopped him. _When I got close to the wall, I could not fly. I do not know why, though a Dragon's flight is assisted with magic, so their anti-magic or whatever it is might have something to do with it. Besides, I may be sneaky next to snow, but against the night sky I would have no chance._

"Good points," Arlen said. "I found a side entrance with perhaps four guards around it. We just might be able to handle them, but I wouldn't want to try unless we had no other option."

Herbst nodded. "One was bad enough, but four is suicide, even with a Dragon."

After a while, Arlen thought of something. "If we had some sort of distraction, we could easily get in and out without them knowing."

Herbst chuckled. "It'd have to be some distraction to get everyone's attention."

Artsanna smiled. _I know exactly what it could be. We start a fire and let it spread to the prison and the forest._

Arlen was adamant. "We're not doing that. I don't want that kind of destruction on my head."

Artsanna scoffed. _It is the only way._

"She's right," Herbst noted. "There's nothing else we can do. Besides, with all that magic, the Elves will have an easy time stopping the fire from spreading to the rest of the forest."

 _Yes. And several other prisoners will be trying to escape with that on. Will they really be so concerned about just two?_

She was right. Lynde and Rose were probably less important than Trianna in the eyes of the guards. But did the ends justify the means?

Arlen sighed. It was the only way, and the two of them would probably do it anyway without his permission. He gave in.

He looked at Artsanna, ready to give his blessing to the crime, when he had a wonderful idea. It was so obvious he was surprised he didn't think of it sooner. He laughed at himself for not thinking of.

Artsanna was confused. She cocked her head and asked, _Why are you laughing?_

He managed to stop laughing after a bit, and when he caught his breath he explained, "Because I figured out how to get them out of there without anyone or anything getting hurt."

Herbst scoffed. "How?"

"We've been thinking about this all wrong," he said. "We're thinking of Artsanna as a giant, flying, fire breathing—okay, maybe not yet—lizard, when we should be thinking of her as a Dragon. All she needs is a Rider."

Artsanna, after a moment's confusion, caught on. _We go up to the front gate and ask as Dragon and Rider for them to be set free?_

"Exactly."

Herbst was surprised. "You really think that'll work?"

"And why won't it?" Arlen asked.

"What if they know you're not a Rider?" Herbst proposed. "It could go very badly very quickly if they did."

Arlen shrugged. "They're probably pretty isolated in there. They probably won't assume they know every Dragon and Rider, so they won't question us too much. Besides, it's a risk we're going to have to take."

* * *

Soon enough, Arlen's plan was set in motion. In order for it to work, Artsanna had to fly in from the south, not walk, so that the guards wouldn't get suspicious. While Arlen had trouble adapting to riding her in flight, he got the hang of it just in time to fly up to the gate.

The massive stone doors were covered in moss and ivy, making it a little hard to distinguish amongst everything else, but they managed to. Two Elven guards were in front, both of them male, one with silver hair and the other with—oddly enough—blue hair. As Arlen and Artsanna landed, the pair of Elves went up to them and said each said, "Hail, Shur'tugul."

"Hail, guardsmen," Arlen said, hoping that was the appropriate thing to say here.

"What business have you at Dras-Blöthr?" the silver haired one asked.

"It is very serious," Arlen said. "A pair of women have been brought her unjustly."

Both of the Elves were rather surprised. "Were they not magicians?" the blue haired one asked.

"They were not," Arlen said, hoping they wouldn't see through the lie. "The information was incorrect, and as such, they must be set free."

"How recent was this?" the silver one asked.

"Them being brought here was about two months ago, but we only recently discovered this mistake. I am to escort them back to Gil'ead so that they are given a full apology."

The guards looked amongst each other, as if talking with their minds. "What proof do you have of this?"

Artsanna snarled. _I am proof! Does the word of a Rider and a Dragon really need to be so questioned?_

The silver haired one blanched while the other remained calm. He said, "I will ask Vraeldr of this. If he says we should allow this, we will." After a few moments of silence, he continued, "Very well. I shall get them for you. What are their names?"

A wave of relief and joy swept over Arlen. After two months they were finally going to get them back! He tried not to let it show, but he couldn't help smiling. "They will answer to Lynde of Cathalorn and Rose the Ranger."

The blue haired on nodded. "I shall retrieve them." The Elf went into a hidden gatehouse, and presumably into the prison.

And so, Arlen and Artsanna were left alone with the silver haired Elf. It was not long before the Elf tried to be friendly. "My name is Wínrel," he said. "What is yours, Shur'tugul?"

He couldn't think of any false name, so he just said, "Arlen."

"And yours?" he asked Artsanna.

 _Artsanna is the name I chose for myself._

"And a great name it is," Wínrel said. "A starry name." Artsanna was unimpressed. Wínrel acted like it was personal failure. He then decided to make small talk. "It's awfully cold for late winter, isn't it?"

Arlen considered it. "I'm used to it."

Never in all his life did he think an Elf would ever be trying to make small talk to him. It made him realize how odd his life had gotten this winter. He not only knew a Dragon Rider but two of them—both rogue—as well as an Elf. He fought a Shade almost regularly, and even two Riders at once. If anyone—even his own father—told him that this would happen, he would never have believed it. It almost made him laugh.


	33. Prison Break

Rose was measuring the height of a section of wall with her eyes. She fully intended to escape, like Lynde did, but she was going to go about it far more methodically than her. She had actually been planning this since they got there. While she was doing this, an Elf with blue hair—who reminded her of someone she knew—came up to her. "Are you Rose the Ranger?"

She nodded. "I am. What's it to you?"

"You are being released."

Rose was so surprised she felt it on her face. How could she be released…? They discovered that she was an Elf, didn't they? Of course, she'd ask. "Why?"

"A Rider's come for you. Apparently you're not a magician. Now come on."

A Rider? A thought occurred to her and she asked, "What color was the Dragon?"

The guard scoffed. "It's not red or blue if that's what you're asking. It's silver, now hurry up."

As Rose followed the guard, she smiled. She hadn't been expecting Arlen and Artsanna to rescue them. Now her plan to jump up the side of the wall—which she had learned she probably could do relatively easily—was unnecessary.

They didn't go straight to the gate. Instead, they went to go find Lynde first. They found her with Fayre, talking. "It's time to go," the guard said.

Lynde, confused, asked, "Where?"

"To the gates. You're being released."

Lynde's surprise was the same as Rose's had been, though with a little sadness. Glancing at Fayre, Lynde asked, "Is she coming with us?"

The guard shook his head. "No. Just Rose the Ranger and Lynde of Cathalorn."

Lynde sat resolutely on a pile of rubble. "Then I won't go."

"Lynde," Fayre said, pleading.

Lynde looked at her. "I don't want to go without you, Mom."

Fayre took her hands. "You have to go. I won't let me stop you."

"But I don't want to leave you," Lynde pleaded.

"Lynde, as long as you keep the memory of me alive, I'll never be really gone." Fayre smiled. "Besides, you have others to think about." While probably meaningless and inexplicable to the guard, Rose noticed Fayre tapping the palm of Lynde's right hand—right where her gedwëy ignasia was—with a finger.

Lynde relented. "Alright, Mom. I'll go."

"That's my girl," Fayre said, giving Lynde a hug. As they withdrew, Fayre added, "If you ever see your father again, tell him I love him and hope to meet him again soon."

Lynde nodded. "I will."

Lynde stood up, tears in her eyes, and walked alongside Rose. She was surprised to find that she felt like she had to comfort her somehow. She hated seeing Lynde in pain, but there was nothing she could do without the chance of it being overheard. If only she knew that Artsanna had come for them.

Then she had a thought. She had been dumb to think that telepathy was magic, and could be stopped by the wards of Dras-Blöthr. Realizing her mistake, she contacted Lynde. _Lynde, open your mind._

She did saying, _What is it, Rose?_

 _Open your mind to the bond you have with Artsanna._ Lynde, after a moment, had a look of pure joy on her face. She had been reunited with someone she loved dearly just as she had to say goodbye to another. She looked to Rose and said, _Thank you._

When they got to the gates, they were let wide open, and Rose could see Arlen and Artsanna waiting for them. The two looked like they belonged together, as Dragon and Rider. It was no wonder how they convinced the guards.

As they passed through the gates, she heard rapid footsteps on the wall. She hoped that was not what she thought it was. She then heard Vraeldr's voice shout in the Ancient language, "Rogue Dragon! Capture them!" Well that complicated matters.

As weapons shifted in peoples' hands, Rose pushed Lynde along her way, saying, "Run, Lynde! They know!" Lynde ran to Artsanna and Arlen immediately while Rose stayed behind to deal with the guards.

Rose turned towards the wall, and jumped onto it thirty feet up, which was a great effort on her part. She surprised a guard with a long bow, who had an arrow knocked in place. She pulled the arrow from his hands and stabbed him in the side with it. As he reeled, she pushed him off the wall, grabbing his bow as she did. She then charged another bowman guard, and shoved him off the wall while taking his quiver. Now all she needed was a target.

Her old bow was given to her long ago. It was made for one of Elven strength, so that it was harder to accidentally snap it while drawing. This new bow would do, though she'd want to make one herself in case this was of inferior craftsmanship.

She drew three arrows, and rapidly fired them at guards charging her with spears, each hitting their targets between the plates of their armor. As another guard charged her from behind, she turned around and parried his spear between the shaft and string of her bow. She then ran up to him, kicked him in stomach plate, knocking him slightly off balance, and then threw him off the wall. She grabbed the spear he left, freed it of her bow, and threw it at another guard, catching him in the shoulder. She found this much too easy.

She then noticed where Vraeldr was. He was running towards a place on the wall she'd supposed was his office, and she ran after him. He wasn't going to run while his guards died around him—he wasn't the type—so what was he doing?

Before she could properly follow him, she heard an explosion outside of the wall. She turned to see what it was. Silvery fire engulfed an area that stopped ten feet short of the wall. She couldn't see the source of the fire, but she had a guess. The fire soon stopped, and Artsanna was revealed to have been the source.

The carnage was great. Artsanna had killed many Elves with that burst, and lit several red-orange fires in the nearby foliage that spread to the surrounding area. Half the guards were now dedicated to putting out fires—both with spells outside the prison, and trying to find a water source or using snow to put out the fire near it—and the others were trying to capture the Dragon.

Lynde seemed shaken by the event, and so did Artsanna. She could understand that. They had ended lives that could have gone on forever had they not done anything. They destroyed the knowledge kept within each Elf's mind, accumulated over centuries, and now gone forever. But also shocking was that Artsanna had breathed fire for perhaps the first time.

Artsanna was soon knocked out of her daze when an arrow fired at her from the wall right at her head. She adjusted her head in such a way that the arrow bounced harmlessly off of her head plate. Rose then looked to the archer, loaded an arrow, and shot the offender. No one would harm her friends.

Remembering her mission, she ran after Vraeldr. She kicked in the door of his office as he drew a bow on her. As he fired an arrow—probably at her arm considering its trajectory—she sidestepped it. She was a hair slow though, and it scratched her arm. She ignored the flesh wound and charged him.

She tried punching in the face, but he was fast enough to block. He punched her in the stomach, and threw her out of the office. She landed hard, and saw as Vraeldr walked through the doorway.

She realized what he had been doing. Instead of running away to save himself, it was to draw her away from his men. He was smarter than she gave him credit.

Rose, with a sore stomach, stood up as she heard a faint thudding sound. She looked to the horizon and saw a terrifying thing. A massive green Dragon, larger than even Magnora, flew towards Dras-Blöthr with a Rider on his back. It had to be Fírnen with Queen Arya riding.

Through her utter fear and dread, she said one thing. "How?"

"A mirror spelled to get through this place's spells," Vraeldr answer. "You know, I've heard of you. Lylion, isn't it?"

Rose stared at him. "How do you know my name?"

"You're strong enough to be an Elf but you look Human. I met your sister Tuami during the war. She spoke of you."

She eyed him hatefully. "Why bring her up?"

"Because I want to know…" He eyed her questioningly. "…are you Lylion?"

She nodded and said in the Ancient Language, "I am she; Lylion, Daughter of the Bow, and Red Sister."

Vraeldr nodded. "And who is the Rider of that Dragon?"

"Lynde is the Rider," she said, once again in the Ancient Language.

Vraeldr sighed. "Then we cannot keep you as prisoners. You are an Elf and she a Rider. If anything, I'd like to apologize for the inconvenience."

Rose looked at him questioningly. "Are you serious?"

"Quite. But Arya Dröttning is not here for magicians; she's here for them." Vraelder gestured to Lynde and Artsanna. "And you have spilled blood today." He drew his sword. "You will not walk away from this unpunished."

As he lunged, Rose dodged, grabbed her bow on the ground, and hit him square in the side of the head just before he could stop it. He fell down unconscious and out of Rose's misery. Now all she needed to do was… deal with the Queen.


	34. The Queen and the Monsters

Rose jumped off the wall, landing in a crouch, and ran to Lynde and Artsanna. She had to tell them before it was too late. She said very urgently, "You need to leave now!"

Lynde had a confused look on her face. "Why?"

"Queen Arya and Fírnen are on their way!"

Lynde blanched. Hers was the kind of fear that had no words. All she uttered was a shout. "Arlen!"

Rose took a look at Arlen, and he was dueling a guard. She was about to run over there and eliminate the Elf herself, but Arlen surprised her. He parried the guard's sword and then stabbed him in the chest, managing to pierce the chest plate effectively. With the guard dispatched, Arlen turned and asked, "What is it?"

"You're leaving," Rose said. "Get on Artsanna now!"

As Arlen ran over to Artsanna, Lynde looked at Rose questioningly. "You're not coming with us?"

"I'm staying behind to fight Queen Arya," Rose explained.

"But…"

"No buts. Now get on before the two of them get here!"

"Rose." Rose looked at Lynde with a glare meant to tell her that it was not the time or place to disobey her. Lynde submitted. "Your arm's bleeding."

Rose, remembering the wound, muttered a healing spell. As it closed she said, "Now go. And glide low to avoid Fírnen." Lynde nodded and so did Artsanna. Rose looked to Arlen. "Protect her."

"I will," Arlen replied. He reached one of Artsanna's saddlebags as he said, "But first take this." He held up the arrow she tried to use when they fought Raud last. The metal, blue feathered arrow made to kill anything it was aimed at. He held it up like it hadn't killed kings but would protect Rose.

Rose shook her head. "Keep it for now. I don't intend to use that against anyone but Raud." Arlen understood fortunately, and tucked it away in his pack.

As they got onto Artsanna's saddle—which really wasn't meant for two—Lynde said, "Take care of yourself."

Rose sighed. "That's going to be hard to do while fighting the Elf Queen, but I'll try."

Lynde, with no more words of her own to say, said, "Artsanna wants you to know that she doesn't think you'll die today."

Rose smiled. The Dragon was always so confident in her. If only her silver-scaled student knew how many fights she'd lost. But instead of listing that, she said first in the Ancient Language and then in the Human language, "Neither do I."

Artsanna took off before more words could be said. True to Rose's instructions, she was flying low, and not flapping very often, so that she was less visible. She hoped to see those three again very soon.

Soon, the sound of the guards trying to put out the fires was overwhelmed by an enormous flapping sound. With each flap came a burst of a tornado against the trees, flinging needles and snow from them, as well as loose branches. The flapping sound stopped as the massive, green Dragon landed, shaking the earth this time instead of the air.

A dark haired Elf woman dismounted the Dragon, carrying a sword at her belt. Rose stood her ground as the woman walked up to her. The woman wore black clothes, though in such styles as befitted a royal, excluding the trousers she wore instead of a skirt. As the woman looked her over, she said in the Ancient Language, "I am Arya Dröttning, daughter of Islanzadí Dröttning."

If they were to posture, Rose were give her something to think about. In the Ancient Language she said, "I am Lylion the Wanderer, Sixth Daughter of the Bow, and last of the Red Sisters."

Arya seemed slightly surprised by her. "You are a Daughter of the Bow?"

"Indeed," Rose replied. "And you are a Rider."

Arya shook her head. "I do not want to fight you."

"I am reluctant to fight you, but I cannot allow you to go after my friends."

"And I cannot allow you to stop me." Arya drew her sword. "We shall do battle…"

Rose drew her bow and three arrows. "…Until our oaths are satisfied."

After a brief pause, Arya swung her green sword at Rose. Rose jumped into the air, flipping over Arya, and fired an arrow at her. The arrow was stopped by her wards. Rose landed some distance away, where she fired two more arrows, once again stopped by Arya's wards. Suddenly it became clear that this wasn't going to be as easy as she once thought.

Suddenly, Rose thought of something. Where was Fírnen? She then recalled an image she'd seen while in the air: the green Dragon trying to keep prisoners from escaping Dras-Blöthr, and succeeding rather well. At least he wasn't after her.

Rose then realized something. She ran towards the wall as she fired arrows at Arya, goading her after her. She managed to get Arya to follow her into the place where Dras-Blöthr's anti-magic spells were in effect, instantly removing her wards.

Arya was clearly drained by that, but not for long. "Using my own spells against me," Arya said. "You Daughters of the Bow are awfully clever. But the spells of my sword include one to counter this place's spells, as do some of my wards."

As Rose knocked an arrow she said, "Maybe not the right ones."

Before she could fire, there came several huge explosions seemingly out of nowhere. It left many guards wounded, and others dead from grievous wounds that looked like they exploded from the inside out. As Rose scanned the area, the cause was definitely hiding itself.

Fírnen, shocked by the whole thing, jumped in a very way that was not very Dragon-like onto the wall. This allowed several magicians to escape out the gate. Suddenly, a man with dark red hair charged at the escapees, cutting them to pieces. It took a moment for Rose to realize who this was, but only a moment.

Raud was here. Now she wished she'd accepted that arrow.

As Raud walked over to Rose and Arya all too casually, he said, "I'm not letting you out of there. You two are far too dangerous with magic to let out like that."

Rose had an idea. She'd seen what happened to spells inside of Dras-Blöthr, so she was willing to bet that a Shade would be affected badly the anti-magic. Rose yelled at him, "Why don't you come and fight us then?"

Raud stopped just short of the affected area. "I don't think so. I have no desire to find out what the name of the Ancient Language does to someone like me."

Rose was surprised. "This… they're using…?" She looked to Arya. "Is it true?"

Arya nodded. "Yes. Only a handful of people know it, and this Shade shouldn't be among them."

Raud shook his head. "First, my name is Raud; learn it. Second, I may not know it, but I certainly know that you know it. And now you know that I know that you know... Ah, forget it. I'll just kill you."

Raud began to speak a spell, lighting a fire that evaporated snow, and spread into the place where he couldn't reach. As Rose and Arya tried to jump past, Raud said, "Ganga abtr," flinging them back in. There was no hope of escape it seemed.

Suddenly, a familiar voice came from near the gate. "Shade!" Fayre shouted, and then began to speak a spell. From the words, it was sorcery.

Rose shouted to her. "Don't do it Fayre!"

Before Fayre could either stop or continue, the point of a sword sprouted through her chest. Rose was shocked. She knew Humans were fated to die, and in fact all things were, but to see her struck down like that was horrible. Rose's legs felt weak and her stomach sank. She felt like it was her life draining out before her instead of Fayre.

As the sword retracted, its wielder was revealed. A woman with an unimpressive stature and a dead look to her face walked towards Raud. As the fire light revealed more of her features, Rose hoped it was just the lighting, and that the woman's hair was not actually red, nor were her eyes. If it wasn't just a trick of the light, then this woman was a Shade.

She stopped a few paces from Raud, her sword still bloody with Fayre's blood, and said, "Raud, this is why Vras sent me to watch you. You're getting careless."

"No I'm not, Tyra," Raud replied. "You just didn't give me a chance to kill her."

"She was going to summons spirits, and if she wasn't successful, we would have either had a rogue Shade or a new member, neither of which I particularly want."

"You're going to focus on that instead of how I cornered a Shadeslayer?"

"I can focus on whatever I want, Raud."

As the two were bickering, Arya jumped out of the flames, and spoke a word Rose had never heard before. It sounded powerful, but Rose couldn't make out much else. She then threw her sword at Raud's chest, aiming for his heart. He must have realized this, and moved in just such a way that instead of it being his heart being pierce it was his throat. He disappeared in a cloud as he did at Stronghammer's castle. One Shade down, one to go.

Oddly enough, this new Shade—Tyra—ran. She ran away from Dras-Blöthr and… right in the same direction that Artsanna had flown in!

Rose jumped out of the fire, and turned to Arya. Before any words were spoken, Rose grabbed Arya's arm and punched it, snapping the bone. Arya cried out in pain and said, "You dare?" Rose then punched her head hard enough to knock her out but not cause damage that a healer couldn't fix. When she woke up, she would be in no condition to chase after Rose and her friends, or Tyra.

Now Rose had to catch up to them and save them from that monster.


	35. The Puppeteer

Arlen was afraid to let go of Lynde. With how fast Artsanna was flying, and how her saddle really wasn't made for two people, he was afraid of falling off. The only thing distracting him from falling off was Lynde's hair in in his face. He could definitely think of better times in his life, and worse, but mostly better.

He remembered the day the war ended for him. The day his father and several other men of Cathalorn came back from fighting, the whole village celebrated. The war was over, and their men were back. Even if the Empire hadn't won, which not as many villagers cared one way or the other about it, they were glad to have their brothers, sons, husbands, and friends back. He was just glad to have his father back, as little time they'd had before, and what little time they'd have after.

It was better to focus on the good memories he had rather than the bad. In light of what just happened, he had to focus on better times so that he wouldn't be bogged down by guilt. Guilt didn't change what happened, the lives he took, or the suffering he may have caused. All he could do was move on, as hard as that was.

He suddenly remembered something important. "Artsanna, we need to go back," Arlen said.

"I don't like this any more than you do, but Rose told us to go," Lynde said before Artsanna got a chance to reply.

"I'm not worried about Rose. I ran into your father at Gil'ead."

Lynde turned her head to look at him, surprise in her eyes. "What?"

"Your father's here, Lynde. He came with us to free you, and he's back there wondering what's going on. We need to go back for him."

Lynde was easy enough to convince. "If he's still there, I'm going… AH!" Suddenly she gripped her head in pain, and Artsanna started to fall.

Artsanna crashed into the treetops, spraying snow and pine needles onto her riders. She fell into a grove where she tumbled and smashed into several trees. Arlen jumped off just before she hit, lucky to be alive.

He looked to Artsanna, worried for both her and Lynde. He went over to them, seeing that Lynde was very badly hurt, and Artsanna couldn't move. What had caused this?

There was a rustling behind them, and Arlen drew his sword to face it. It was probably Rose, but if it wasn't, then he wanted to be ready. As a figure stepped out of the brush, he could tell that it wasn't Rose but a woman he didn't recognize in the slightest.

There was no moon out, but they had crashed into one of the Elves' paths, which was lit with strange looking lanterns. In the strange light she had red hair and blood red eyes. Her skin was pasty as if she'd never seen the sun in her life. Raud had looked the same, so he was afraid that it meant that the woman was a Shade.

He was ready to fight her when she spoke something and flung him several yards away. She then inspected Lynde and Artsanna, her dead expression unchanging. "Well, that's too bad," she said, devoid of emotion. "We need you at your best not broken like that." She then pulled Artsanna off of Lynde as easily as a blanket, and started speaking more of the Ancient Language over her.

Arlen couldn't abide by this. He ran over to the Shade woman, trying to stab her. Without breaking her spell, she drew a sword and swung it at him. She disarmed him easily, knocking the sword out of his hands—he was really tired of people doing that to him—and pointing the tip of her blade at his throat, but not killing him.

When she finished speaking in the Ancient Language, Lynde shifted. She sat up, her bones and muscles healed with not even a scar that he could see on her skin. "I was a healer once," the woman said. "Now I make the wounds instead of fixing them. I have to say, not much of an improvement, but at least I don't have to worry about people dying on me now that it's my objective."

Lynde reached for Artsanna's saddlebags where her sword was, but she stopped midway. It was involuntary by the looks of it, as if someone was controlling her. Her pleading eyes were the things that convinced him that this woman was controlling her. Arlen stared at her and asked, "Who are you?"

"I am Tyra," the woman said. "And Raud would hate what I'm about to do to you."

Suddenly, Lynde's hand lurched towards her sword, drawing it out with pleading eyes. As she rose, her movements were ridged and exaggerated like a string puppet's. Tyra moved to the edge of the grove, still with her sword pointed at him, until she lowered it and Lynde raised hers. Lynde then charged and swung her sword at Arlen.

Arlen grabbed is sword off the ground and blocked, scared. "Lynde, don't do this."

Out of the corner of his eye, Tyra smiled. "She's not in control of her body. While she fights me, she can't defeat me. Her mental strength is nothing."

As Lynde swung again, it was easy enough for Arlen to block. He was fighting Tyra through Lynde, but he couldn't kill either of them. If he attacked Tyra, it would leave an opening to kill him with Lynde. If he fought Lynde, she could get hurt or even die. They were not good options in either case, and he couldn't think of any others. He would just have to defend himself until he saw an opportunity.

As Tyra hammered away at him with Lynde, he was fearful. While he was the better fighter, the weight of Lynde's sword was wearing him down. He tried to parry, but that was difficult as well. When it seemed that Lynde's right arm was tiring, she switched to the left and continued to attack. He had no idea how he was going to survive this without hurting Lynde.

Finally, he decided to fight back. He would wound Lynde in such a way that it would stop her from fighting, but not kill her. Rose or maybe Lynde could probably heal whatever wounds he'd inflict, though he was afraid it might cause permanent damage. He would have to risk it.

Arlen, after parrying a blow, stabbed Lynde's left arm. Her eyes had pain in them, but there was no other immediate reaction. She did stop swinging her arm for a moment. Tyra frowned and began to speak a spell.

Arlen took the opportunity to attack. Their exchange was brief, as Lynde had apparently switched hands and hit Arlen in the back. The blade had not been used or sharpened since its creation—which he should have been doing, but it always slipped his mind, fortunately—and his was at the edge of her range, so the damage didn't feel too serious. But it still hurt a lot as the point of her sword slashed across his shoulder blades.

Arlen fell to the ground, his back bleeding out. Tyra laughed. "You pathetic Human. I hold both your lives in my hands. Would you rather I control you and release Lynde?"

He thought about it for a moment, and in the moment it almost sounded tempting. To let Lynde choose who lived and who died felt better. But no, it was far too irresponsible of him to do that, and he wouldn't make Lynde make that hard a decision. He raised his head and said something that surprised even him. "If you're going to kill me, do it."

Tyra was displeased. "You've given up already? Too bad. I thought you'd be made of sterner stu…" Suddenly, she stopped talking.

Lynde was released. She immediately dropped her sword and grabbed her arm. She started speaking a spell and looked to Arlen. She stopped her spell, and began a new one over him. He would've objected, but he was more confused than upset with her foolishness. Why did Tyra release her?

As someone stepped out of the bushes, it became clearer and more confusing. Herbst with an angry expression on his face stared at Tyra. He spoke with contempt in his voice. "You think your mind is stronger than everyone else's?" Tyra couldn't answer back. "You think you can take whatever you want? You think you can make my daughter do things against her will?" Lynde's attention snapped to him. "I say to you Shade, your reign of terror is over."

Suddenly, a deep voice came from the shadows. "Abtr," it said, and Herbst went flying into a tree. A man stepped out of the shadows. He didn't look very much like anything he'd seen. He looked vaguely like an Elf, but not very. Though one thing was clear, he was another Shade.

Arlen tried getting up but couldn't. His spine hurt horribly when he tried, so he would have to sit this one out if he could. He hoped he didn't have to fight this thing.

The new Shade looked to Tyra, who had been released when Herbst was flung. "Vras," Tyra said fearfully. "I didn't think…"

"I was watching you from the shadows, Tyra," the deep voiced Shade said. "What I do not trust Raud to, I do not trust you to either. It is pathetic how predictably cruel you two are, and the vices you take with them that becomes your undoing. You're like children playing with toys you're supposed to be putting away."

Tyra accepted the punishment. "Of course, Vras."

Vras scoffed. "These new Shades are weak. A thousand years ago, you two would be lucky to take on a Rider. But everything atrophies anyway, so why bother?"

Lynde, holding her wound, stared at Vras. "Who are you?"

Vras knelt down to her level. "I am Vras. My allies, Raud and Tyra, form the Shade Council. At least, that's what they insist on calling it. We only have each other, but together we're unstoppable anyway. Now, come with me, child."

Lynde sneered at him. "I will not."

"That's wasn't a request." Suddenly, Lynde stood in the same manor she had when Tyra was controlling her, but slightly less jagged. Tyra healed her and Artsanna, who was now being controlled by the Shade woman. Lynde then mounted Artsanna, and flew off badly. "Tyra, that is awful."

"Give me a break," Tyra said. "I've never flown before."

Then, Vras walked over to were Herbst lay against a tree, badly hurt. He spoke a spell, and then said, "You will not be able to move your limbs or speak for several hours. By then it won't even matter, and I'll tell you why." Vras whispered something in Herbst's ear that got him agitated.

Arlen tried getting up again but still couldn't. Vras took note of this and said, "Do not worry, Human. Soon there will be nothing to worry about ever again." As Arlen wondered what that meant, the Shades disappeared into the forest, leaving him and Herbst to either live or die.


	36. The Elder

After some time searching, Rose found Arlen on his side in a grove along a highway. There were many broken trees nearby like something had smashed into them, but she wasn't sure what. One thing was for sure, Arlen was hurt and so was some other man she'd never seen before.

She knelt down behind Arlen and asked him, "What's hurt?"

"Rose is that you?" Arlen tried to turn his head to look at her, but gave up soon enough.

"Yes, it's me. Now what's hurt?"

"My back. I can't stand up without it hurting like nothing else."

Rose inspected his back and found a cut in the cloth and a poorly healed wound. The bleeding had stopped and the skin was mostly repaired, but it was shoddily done and as she felt the wound his spine was damaged. It was the work of a novice, and obviously that meant Lynde had done it—she wasn't that great at healing beyond scrapes, so Rose would have to teach her some more soon enough.

It was nothing she couldn't fix though, and after a brief spell and some physical straightening out it was fine. She'd learned a while ago that healing with magic was usually helped along with some traditional medicine as well, including the occasional spine straightening. The nerves, muscles, and bones were fixed so she declared, "Done. Now stand up."

Arlen slowly sat up and then Rose impatiently helped him up. She wasn't going to stand there all night waiting for him to get to his feet. "Thank you," he said. "Now help Herbst."

Rose pointed to the man across the road questioningly. "Herbst?"

"Yeah."

Rose sighed and walked over to the bearded man. "Who is this and how much does he know?"

"He's Lynde's father, and he knows about Artsanna and probably even more than you do," Arlen said.

"Does he know there's a second Shade running around?"

"Yep, and a third. They took Lynde and Artsanna."

Rose stopped in her tracks. This night was just getting worse and worse. She turned to look at Arlen. "Let me get this straight. There are three Shades, Raud, Tyra, and your third."

"Vras," Arlen noted.

"Vras," Rose repeated and then realized who that was. She knew the name, but she thought he was dead. Tyra had said the name, but she'd assumed it was a false name. She had to ask. "Did he look somewhat like an Elf?"

Arlen was unsure. "Something like that. He didn't look Human or Elf to be honest."

"He is an Elf, or was, but not one you know. He's unaffected by the pact between Dragon and Elves because he never was; he predates it."

Arlen had a look of confusion and shock. "What does this mean and how do you know this?"

Rose sighed, and explained. "During the war between Dragons and Elves—I won't explain it if you don't know it, but this was before Riders—there was an Elf who decided to do something drastic. He created a Shade—himself, Vras—and tried fighting the Dragons. He fought an entire army of Dragons before dying, or at least, that's how we thought it happened. If it's the same Vras, then we're fighting perhaps the oldest Shade to ever live. He's had thousands of years to plan and learn spells. He's been hiding for all that time from the Riders. I can't believe this big a failure exists."

"The Magicians," Arlen noted. "The story of Elva. The fact that perhaps a thousand Riders were killed by just a handful. If you haven't noticed, there have been some spectacular failures in just the last hundred years or so."

Rose nodded. "Good point, but that doesn't excuse this. The Riders should have done something."

Arlen shrugged. "Well we can't do much about it now. But you should treat Herbst."

Rose nodded. "Right." She took a look at him and there were tough spells that kept him from moving his limbs or speaking. The one on his vocal cords was the toughest, so she focused on his right arm first. She poured a good amount of energy, but kept enough so that she could track down Lynde soon enough.

When she finally broke through, he started drawing something in the dirt. First was Lynde's name and then the word Shade. He then drew an arrow from Lynde's name to Shade. Arlen asked, "What are you trying to say?"

Herbst drew a circle around the two words, and then wiped away the arrow. It took Rose a moment to realize what he meant. Still unsure—or hoping it wasn't true, she asked, "They're going to turn Lynde into a Shade?"

While he couldn't move his mouth, his neck seemed to work just fine as he nodded. That was it then; they were all dead. Riders were—if memory served her—forbidden from practicing sorcery for fear they would become a Shade. She didn't know much about the bond between Rider and Dragon, but she knew that they were tied in some way that probably meant that if one was turned into a Shade, the other would too. Shades and Dragon Rider pairs were plenty powerful on their own, so if a Shade was a Dragon Rider… She would definitely have to stop this, even if it meant all their lives.

"Vras told you?" Arlen asked. Herbst nodded. "We have to find her." Another nod.

Rose sighed. "I know how to track them, but we can't do much against them when we do." Arlen reached into his pack and drew out the magic arrow she'd entrusted to him. Rose would have smiled if the situation wasn't so grave. "Thanks, Arlen."

He nodded. "It's no trouble. Though it is kind of heavy at times."

Rose ignored the small joke as she took the arrow and put it in her quiver. "Now, time for some tracking spells." She turned to Herbst. "I hope you don't mind us leaving you here, Herbst."

Herbst shook his head. Arlen noted, "Vras said the spells would wear off in a few hours."

Rose sighed. "And since when did you start trusting the word of a Shade?"

Arlen nodded. "Good point. Now where are we going?"

"I don't know yet," Rose replied. "Give me a moment." She sat cross-legged on the ground as she began to meditate.

She opened her mind and sought the knowledge that the woodland creatures knew. Her mind wandered from animal to animal, looking around for the pale-faced strangers that wore death like fur and the animals feared. She almost lost herself among the simple minds of squirrels and voles and field mice.

Finally, she found her way into the mind of a hawk. It did not see the pale-faced strangers, but it did see a strange bird with scales and feathers that looked more like a bat than a bird. On its back was a not-Elf who looked dead but alive. Rose found herself again, and realized that this was how the hawk saw Lynde and Artsanna.

She turned to Arlen. For a moment she considered dismissing him and getting Lynde and Artsanna herself, but she realized how foolish that was. It would be suicide going up against two Shades alone, and Arlen was good enough to best an Elf with the sword, so she would just have to bring him along. How she was going to bring him didn't seem like a particularly good plan though, but it would have to do. "Arlen, I'm going to cast a spell that will make you run faster for a time," she said.

Arlen was surprised. "You can do that?"

"Briefly. As I run, you will run. Are you ready?"

Arlen shrugged. "As ready as I'll ever be."

"Good, now follow me." She cast the spell, and began to run with Arlen beside her. While it took quite a bit of energy to make him run as fast as her, it would be worth it if she stopped the Shades.

They were going to rescue Lynde, and if that didn't work… She didn't want to think about if it didn't work.


	37. Deyja Sundavar

Lynde looked out of her eyes, but could do nothing as Artsanna flew above the treetops. Artsanna did as she was told, as much a captive as Lynde. They were prisoners in their own bodies, completely aware of what went on and able to think, but the Shades controlled their bodies.

It was all she could do to keep her own mind intact. She walled her mind off from them, trying to hold on to the last shred of herself. For some reason the Shades had not even tried to break her, which she was entirely thankful for, but she wondered why they hadn't.

Artsanna descended into the forest, where Vras and Tyra were waiting outside of a stone structure of some sort. It looked like a tomb. She had only seen one tomb in her life, and that looked very different to this one.

"You may be wondering whose tomb this is," a familiar voice said as they landed. The voice came from just outside of her field of vision, and sounded like Raud. "I can tell you that we don't know either."

Vras sighed painfully. "Raud, what have I told you about when you reform?"

"Get to a base fast and stealthy."

Suddenly, Lynde's head turned to the opposite direction from where Raud's voice was coming from. Every movement felt wrong, and she tried fighting, but she couldn't stop it. Vras's voice said, "You don't need to see this."

Next was Tyra. "Get some trousers on, Raud, or I'll spell them onto you." That explained something she no longer wanted to know.

"Please, not again," Raud pleaded.

"Into the tomb, Raud," Vras said. "There is a set of your preferred garb in the corner, and a sword next to that. And remind me to research a solution to the whole 'showing up naked after reforming' thing. It can be very inconvenient, especially since you do it so often."

Raud scoffed. "And nobody is going to comment on how close I reformed?"

"No," Tyra said.

After Raud got into the tomb, Lynde suddenly felt control restored to her limbs. Her first reaction was to run, but Tyra stepped in front of her just as she started. Artsanna also regained control of her body, but something stopped her from using her wings. "You can move around now only on my good graces," Vras said. "I will not allow you to escape, and if you attack us, we will be forced to restrain you."

Lynde reluctantly complied. Artsanna was more willful though. _We cannot allow these bullies to command us like this, no matter how strong they are to us,_ Artsanna said.

Lynde pleaded with her. _Don't try it. I know you want to, but if you do, you could get hurt._

 _We cannot let them do this! They are the enemy, Lynde. They're evil, and all their kind is._

 _But it'd be useless. I don't like it any more than you, but you need to calm down and stop this._

Artsanna was reluctant, and angry at Lynde, but she complied. _Fine. But the moment they let their guard down, I will kill as many of them as I can._

 _Please don't._

When Vras spoke to her, it shook her. His deep voice was frightening, as was his strange accent. The accent was like the Elven accent, but more like a funeral dirge than the normal sing-song nature of it. "I do not want you to hate us, child, without understanding what we are trying to do," he said. "We are hoping to end any and all suffering in the world, which is a noble gesture. It is just the means that might be objectionable."

Lynde stared at him. "I thought all Shades were evil. Why are you trying to end it?"

Vras shook his head. "I was created to fight my peoples' enemies. No one forced me to become a Shade. I chose this. I have certain… dark tendencies, but for the most part, I have never stopped trying to protect people from dangers, including from myself."

 _He's lying,_ Artsanna warned. _I can almost smell it._

 _I know, but do you want to tell him that?_ She looked him over. "What do you want from us?"

"It's simple, child," Vras said. "I want you to become like me. I want you to become a Shade and rid the world of suffering."

"And after I become a Shade, what then?" Lynde asked. She wasn't going to entertain the notion of her becoming one of them in her own mind, but at the very least she was going to make them think she was. "Do I cast a spell? Do I teach everyone acceptance by my example?"

Vras shook his head. "It requires the sacrifice of one's own morals to understand. Until then, I cannot tell you."

Lynde, we need to stop this, Artsanna said. If you keep doing this you might end up falling for their promises.

Lynde agreed with her. "I don't think so, Vras. I won't wait until after I'm not myself to learn your master plan. I refuse."

Vras sighed. "Then I'm sorry, but I was giving you the illusion of choice." He looked past her and said, "Tyra." Tyra grabbed her from behind, and while she tried to shake the Shade off, her attempts were for nothing.

Artsanna tried to attack their captors, slashing at them, but it didn't work. The Shades put spells over her, preventing her from moving. However, they failed to close her mouth in time, and she let loose a torrent of almost silver fire at Vras. He spoke a single word, which she had come to hate over the past few months, "Blöthr." The fire stopped and accumulated in front of him, and eventually, went out. After shutting her mouth with another spell, Lynde couldn't take it.

Lynde spoke a spell she'd never used before, even though Rose had taught it to her. It was only to be used in dire circumstances, and these qualified. "Deyja sundavar!" she said, hoping they had no wards against it. When they were unaffected, she was shocked.

Raud, coming out of the tomb with his usual clothes and armor on, sighed. "Do you think every time someone said 'die, shadows', we'd keel over? We know better than that."

In a rage, she tried to speak another spell, but Vras spoke one first that kept her from opening her mouth. It just made her angrier, but there wasn't much she could do about that. "The next words you say will be as a Shade, Little Lynde," Raud said mockingly.

"Take what you can get, child," Tyra said. "He once called me 'Tyrannical Tyra', and he's kept calling me that since, even after I ripped his throat out."

"I'm still trying to figure out one for Vras," Raud noted. "Well, one that he doesn't hate so much that he makes me swear not to use again. I still like… I can't say it."

Vras sighed. "You two are pathetically immature and unfocused. Get her into the tomb already."

As Tyra and Raud dragged Lynde into the tomb, she saw the enormity of it. The entrance led into an antechamber sloping downwards for several dozen yards. After that was a huge open area with columns, buttresses, and a coffin in the center. "I said it once and I'll say it again, whoever this is, he had class," Raud said.

They forced Lynde to lie on top of the coffin, and restrained her with powerful spells. They then began to chant a terrible spell. This was it; they were going to turn her.

Fear gripped her heart. She didn't want this to happen; she didn't want to be evil. She had to do something, but she couldn't think of anything.

When the Spirits came, they were balls of light that changed colors sometimes, and they swarmed over her. She tried to fight them, but she did not know how. There were dozens, maybe hundreds of Spirits, and only one of her. There was nothing she could do.

Then they stopped. They didn't possess her, but stopped an inch from her. The Shades were confused. "What's happening?" Ruad said.

"She has a spell of some kind over her," Tyra noted. "It must be keeping them away."

"Destroy it," Vras said. "I will keep them here."

In an instant, she had an idea. She tried contacting the Spirits with her mind, and she found them. _Who are you?_ the Spirits' many voices said.

 _I am Lynde,_ she replied. _I did not call you here._

 _We know this. Why are we here?_

Good, she had their attention. Now for the next step of her plan. _The Shades want me to be one of them, and are using you to get it._

 _Spirits must not be captive._

 _We can help each other, and the Spirits in them._

The Spirits paused. _How?_

 _Lend me your strength, and I will free them and you._

After a moment, the Spirits said, _You shall have it._


	38. Showdown

Arlen and Rose ran through the forest. He had never run this fast in his life, and it was exhilarating. While he did trip once or twice over the underbrush, he was glad to have this so that they could catch up to Lynde and those Shades.

When they finally did stop, it was outside of a tomb. Next to the tomb was Artsanna, unmoving, but alive. "There are spells keeping her from doing much," Rose said. "The only way we can break them is to destroy the source of them."

He knelt down next to Artsanna for a moment. "Don't worry, Artsanna, we're going to save Lynde," Arlen said.

 _If you are going to do it at all, do it now,_ Artsanna said. _They are about to turn her._

Arlen and Rose, realizing the urgency, ran into the tomb. While they did so, Rose began mumbling something in what he assumed was the Ancient language. He didn't know what it was, but he wasn't about to ask. When they got into the room with Lynde and the Shades, he saw Lynde standing on a coffin with bright orbs of light around her.

Vras seemed to be talking to her. "Give up, child. You cannot beat us, even with Spirits. I offer you life. When we beat you, you must die. Even if you were to escape, we would try this again, and then you would die. You see this is what our goal is: to destroy the Dragons, the Rider, the Elves, the Humans, and everything else that lives.

"You must see that it is all pointless. No matter how hard you try, you will die, and so will everything else. Even if we do nothing, they will all die deaths eventually. Even the immortal Elves will someday all die. Give up and join us."

Lynde was quiet. When she did speak, it was with proud defiance. "No matter how inevitable death is, I will not be party to it ever again! All may die, but it won't be today!"

Vras sighed. "Kill her."

As Raud and Tyra drew their swords, Rose fired an arrow at Vras. It was the metallic arrow that would kill anything it hit. Vras saw it, and halted it midair with a spell. It then fell to the ground with a clatter. "Pathetic," Vras said, disgusted. "Utterly pathetic." He gestured to his allies. "Kill them."

Raud charged Rose while Tyra attack Arlen. He remembered his training, and parried Tyra's attacks. He managed to lead Tyra to a nearby column, where he noticed something about her fighting style. She was inexperience with a blade, with no subtlety or control, but a lot of strength and speed. This worked to her advantage mostly, but he had an idea to use her strength against her.

As he backed into the column, she swung her sword, aiming to cut his head off. He ducked out of the way and her sword hit the column. It unexpectedly became lodged in the stone. It seemed that it was a very, very durable sword.

As she pulled the sword out with a massive tug, Arlen swung his sword and sliced her hand off. Her sword dropped to the ground as she stumbled back, reeling in pain. She grasped the bloody stump of her wrist, and sneered at Arlen. As Arlen moved in to finish her off, she shouted a phrase that sounded like it was in the Ancient Language.

"Jierda sverd," she said, and his sword shattered. The sword he'd carried through this whole mess broke apart in his hands because some Shade said some words in a language from an age he knew nothing about. His shock was beyond words.

It was then that he realized that he never really understood what power magic could have in the right or wrong hands. It was more powerful than the steel he replied upon, and possible more powerful than the stone he walked upon. It was power itself.

He soon pushed this discovery out of his head as Tyra began mentally recovering from her hand being cut off. She looked tired, but no less dangerous. He himself started to feel tired, but that wouldn't stop him. Arlen darted to the Shade's fallen sword, and lunged at her with it. She repeated her spell, but this time the sword didn't break.

She fell to the ground, dead, with no wound but her missing hand. Then, her body faded, leaving darkness in its place. The darkness formed into two separate forms, and drifted away into nothing. Arlen shrugged, thankful that the Shade was dead.

Looking at the Shade's sword, he noticed some interesting things. It was rather light, but its durability was enormous. The blade was sharp, and the metal was dark like it had been treated against rust. The hilt and cross guard looked like cords of twisted metal like thick rope, and the solid pommel had a red gem in it. It was a good sword; he would keep it for now.

He looked to Rose and Lynde to see how they were doing. Rose barely touched the ground, jumping from column to column, firing arrows at Raud who deflected them with his sword and chased after her. Lynde was casting spells against Vras, who countered each one and threw more at her, which she in turn managed to survive. He was glad he got the Shade who wasn't that good with a sword, because he wouldn't last two seconds against one of those.

Suddenly, he got an idea. With Vras so focused on Lynde, Arlen snuck around behind him. He was about to stab Vras in the back when the Shade turned around and swung a punch at him. Arlen barely managed to get out of the way and stab him in the heart.

Suddenly, the same thing that happened with Tyra happened with Vras, only a little different. Spirits began to burst from his being, all running out in a stream of power. As they divided, he saw dozens of different blots of light. Were they all Spirits? Vras screamed as he fell into nothing, and the spirits followed.

The Spirits surrounding Lynde also faded away, following their freed brethren. The flood of spirits out of the tomb was massive, and very hard to look at. When they left, everyone breathed a sigh of relief.

That was, until Raud spoke. "Well, that's perfect. I was going to kill them anyway." Arlen looked to Raud in a corner near Rose. He and Lynde moved in to corner the Shade. "I hated all this subterfuge anyhow. I'll just kill everything the old fashioned way—one at a time."

What happened next was so fast that it took Arlen a moment to realize what had happened. Rose ran to pick up the arrow she'd fired at Vras. Raud raised his sword to his throat, aiming to slit it. Rose fired the arrow at Raud. Raud moved to block the arrow with his sword before it pieced his chest. His sword shattered as the arrow hit and pierced his heart. Seeing the arrow, Raud said, "Too bad." He then died, his darkness splitting into several blobs after him.

It was over. They had won.

Footsteps came from the outside, and Arlen and Lynde rushed to see who it was. It was a man with a golden sword in his left hand, wearing a brigandine over his torso, a single vambrace over his left forearm, and greaves over his shins. Under his armor were plain clothes except for his right sleeve, which was dark silk. The man was not imposing because of his dress though.

His scars made him look as if he was a very different man. Burn scars covered the right side of his face, though they looked very old. As Arlen looked, he even realized that his hands and arms were different. While both hands were gloved, they were of different make and material—the left leather, the right silk—and his right hand looked as if it had fewer and shorter fingers than the other. What sort of fire had scarred this man so?

"Who are you?" Arlen asked defensively.

The man replied with a rough and guttural voice. "I am Alaric, chief Dragon Rider in Alagaësia." His eyes looked to Lynde. "Girl, your name is Lynde?"

"Yes," she said suspiciously.

"Then you are to come with me to join the Order of Dragon of Riders."

Lynde defiantly stepped back. "No."

Alaric stared at her. "No?"

"No," she repeated.

Alaric pointed a sword at Lynde. "Then I will have to arrest or kill you; it is your choice."

Arlen stepped forward. He had little idea what he would say to someone so dangerous, but he would say something. "Please, give us a rest," he asked.

Alaric looked bewildered. "A rest? Why?"

"If you'll notice, we just killed three Shades. They also had me break them out of prison, and may have accidentally started a forest fire."

"Sorry about that," Lynde interjected. Alaric nodded in acknowledgement.

"My point is, since we just did this great service to the world, and may have even saved it, could we maybe have some time to rest?" Arlen asked.

Alaric thought long about this. He may have even talked it over with his Dragon Magnora for all Arlen knew. When he finally spoke, Arlen could breathe a sigh of relief, if only that he did speak instead of prolong the silence. "Very well. You have until sunrise the day after tomorrow. After that, we will hunt you down like a dog, Lynde."

Rose accepted that on behalf of Lynde. "That seems fair enough, considering your past with rogue Riders."

Alaric stared at Rose with rage in his eyes. "You know what Thorn did to me. Do not bring it up again or else you will have five seconds to live."

Rose then did something that Arlen had never seen her do. She bowed and said, "I apologize for my rudeness."

Alaric nodded. "Thank you. Now, who killed these Shades?"

"It was myself and Arlen, Alaric," Rose noted.

"And your name?"

Arlen was surprise with what she said. "Lilyon. Tell them, Lilyon killed the egg thief."

Alaric nodded. "I will tell them, but this deed will not stop me from hunting down Lynde when the time comes."

"Of course."

As Alaric turned around and walked out of the tomb, Lynde looked to Arlen. "You killed two Shades!"

"Really, Tyra killed herself," Arlen said. He explained the circumstance of Tyra's accidental death.

Rose was curious, and examined the sword. "I remember this sword and the legend behind it. It was wielded by an Elf named Kitharvie who eventually gave the sword to his apprentice, a Human man. I wonder how it got into Tyra's hands. Its name is Mor'ranr, which means peace. It was said to be unbreakable because Kitharvie hated to maintain it, so used spells on it accordingly."

She handed the sword back to Arlen and he said, "Won't this be useful then?"

Rose went over to where she killed Raud, and retrieved the arrow she killed him with. "So will this," she added.

"What about my sword?" Lynde asked.

"I enchant that in the morning," Rose said. "For now, let's just get some rest."


	39. Return

Alaric waited for them. He had gotten a message that after years of staying away, they'd be back. He hadn't seen them in years, so he was very nervous.

Why were they coming back? How could they be coming back? They said that they would never return, but they were. How?

He wondered as he waited at the top of the tower for them to arrive. He wondered how large she had grown in the time in between meetings. Would this really be large enough for a Dragon that big?

Suddenly, there was a terrible wind that nearly blew Alaric off the tower. Then there was a thud, and a large shadow came over the platform. He knew their return was supposed to be a secret, but he wondered if invisibility was really necessary.

As the invisibility spell lifted, a magnificent blue Dragon was revealed. It was much larger than Magnora, but that was only due to age. As her Rider dismounted, Alaric went to meet him. He bowed and said, "Welcome back, Eragon."

Eragon nodded. "It is good to be back," he replied.

As Alaric rose, he saw age in Eragon's face. He thought that the bond between Dragon and Rider stopped aging, but perhaps Eragon just had some more growing to do. Probably not, but it looked like he had aged.

His voice had certainly changed. It was smoother and less timid. "Alaric, what is the status of the hunt for that missing Dragon egg?"

"It has hatched, and it's only a matter of time before we find them again," Alaric noted.

"You should hope so," Eragon said. "I wouldn't want anyone to go through what you did."

Alaric grasped his right arm, remembering. He was just a soldier and… He couldn't think of that now.

It was now that Alaric asked something that he had been wondering since he got the news. "Not to sound rude, but why are you here?"

Eragon frowned. "I am here because I have been away too long. The world is falling apart and I must be there to fix it. I wish I could depend on you wholly, but I cannot." Alaric felt demeaned. He didn't think that the man he'd assigned to be chief of the Riders could handle this sort of thing, even though he had before.

Eragon continued. "Until such time as I reveal myself, keep my presence in Alagaësia a secret. The Order can know, but no one else can, not even the leaders of this land."

As Eragon moved past him to go into the tower, he thought of something. It was a technicality that had to be sorted out. "What about Queen Arya; should she be informed?"

Eragon stopped. "No. Right now, I think it is best if only the Dragon Riders know I'm back, and only those who can be trusted with this sort of secret."

Alaric nodded. "Of course."

 _To be continued in_ _ **Surda**_

* * *

 **Thank you to everyone who favorited, reviewed, followed, or even viewed this story. I would like to thank some people specifically, but they're not going to read it on here anyway, so I won't. Like I said, I do plan on posting a squeal to this some time in the near future, but I'm not done with it yet. In the meantime, do whatever it is you do, but try to do it as well as you can so that maybe one of us will achieve excellence. See ya!**

 **Edit 4/1/2017: Surda is out!**

 **Edit 4/4/2017: It's not an April Fools joke; it's real.**


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